Willing Sacrifice
by Ryo19
Summary: Hoinheim prevents Ed from making the ultimate sacrifice to restore Al to life and instead takes his place. Now Edward and Alphonse must complete unfinshed business that they have with Envy and Dante.


**Willing Sacrifice**

**By Ryo 19.**

Brief Introduction – This story takes of from episode 49/50 where Edward is cast into the other world beyond the Gate - Earth. I have taken the liberty of altering the time line to take Earth in to the Second World War instead of the first. This will be explained. This story also incorporates some of the aspects of the film Conqueror of Shambala

The reason for this story being written was originally to give Edward and Al a 'proper reunion' and was going to end with the hug they never got in either the film or the series. However, like with most of my stories the muses took over, resulting in the behemoth that lurks below. Oh how I wish I could write a short story. Enjoy

[Break]

"I know it's hard for you to understand but I believe its best that I am staying here. That way I can spend the remainder of my life in the body that your mother loved." Hoinheim sighed; turning away from the piercing golden eyes of his eldest living son and carefully getting in to the military vehicle that was waiting to take him to speak with the upcoming Churchill.

Seating himself on the cold leather bench seat in the rear of the vehicle, Hoinheim looked forward towards the driver's seat in front of him, unable or unwilling to look at his son.

"You should know that I was relieved to find out that the law of equivalent exchange wasn't true; and that people mustn't always be required to pay a price in order to gain something back. Because even if I lived for a thousand life times I could never do enough to deserve the gift of my children… you and Al."

Out of the corner of his eye Hoinheim saw Edward turn his face away, a mixture of feelings flashing across his son's ever mobile features. Edward's face had always been as a book to him and there, in that brief instant he had seen both burning hope and crushing defeat in those expressive impossible eyes.

The car door was closed and the engine, unrefined by alchemy, rumbled noisily to life and Hoinheim continued to look forward as the car pulled away; leaving his son, his and Trisha's first born alone and abandoned in an unfamiliar and dangerous world.

Looking down, Hoinheim removed his silver watch from his coat pocket, his thumb rubbing across the engraved dragon that still marred the otherwise worn and dented casing of his State issued watch. With a flick of a finger it opened up, revealing hands that had long since frozen in place from neglect and a small battered photograph, faded with time and smudged with too much handling.

A photo of a smiling beautiful woman holding two very young children balanced one on each knee. He smiled slightly, knowing that the years had changed the two boys little. Even at such a tender age Alphonse sat calmly in his mothers arms, his eyes on his brother rather than on the camera and one arm raised to try to stop the older but still smaller Edward from overbalancing off his mothers knee, as he reached for the camera; fascinated by the device.

And there, atop that precious photo was an item a thousand times more valuable than gold. No larger than the tip of his little finger and as crimson as fresh blood was the last fragment of the philosopher's stone, still throbbing with the power of the lives of thousands of sacrifices. The last remaining piece from the stone he had created over 400 years ago.

"Looks like a Zeppelin's been hit."

The words of the driver called his wandering mind away from the contents of his watch and back to the present. Hoinheim leaned over in his seat, scanning the dark clouds and indeed spotted the grey monstrosity of the German Zeppelin belching flame as it fell from the sky. Right over the place that Edward had last been.

The watch snapped shut, entrapping the two precious items; stone and picture both and Hoinheim slid towards the car door on the leather bench seat.

"Stop the vehicle." He ordered.

The driver braked and the car slowed then shook and skidded sideways as the Zeppelin hit the ground, buffeting the small vehicle. Hoinheim threw open the door and stepped out, his eyes – a pale dull blue so very different from his son's – scanning the impact site, searching. He was looking beyond the raging flames for a different kind of light, all the time clutching the pocket watch tightly in his hand.

Despite the distance he could swear he heard the short sharp clap of two flesh hands meeting before a flare of blue light cut through the blaze just second before the frame of the zeppelin succumbed to the flames.

His son had gone home.

His son had gone home alone to face the burdens of fighting Dante and the surviving Sins and to bare on his too young shoulders the responsibility of giving his brother back what he had lost.

His son…that he had abandoned so many years before and was abandoning now yet again.

"Sir?" One of the soldiers called quietly, trying to draw his attention away from the burning hillside.

What excuse was his failing body for leaving his two sons to cope alone with the death of their mother and everything that followed? Briefly Hoinheim considered what the present would be like now if he had been there for his boys when Trisha had died, if he'd been there to prevent the desperate attempt at human transmutation.

"Sir? We really must be going. You are needed at…"

Hoinheim cut the soldier off with a raised hand.

"I know…I know where I am needed now." His other hand clenched in to a fist around the battered and much abused pocket watch as he walked away from the vehicle and up the hill, leaving the two soldiers standing there stunned in his wake.

[Break]

Rose had gone; leaving the huge theatre with remarkable speed for a woman that was carrying both an infant and acting as a crutch for the wounded and confused Wrath.

Ed had no doubt that part of her speed was from her desperation to get away from the emptiness of this silent stage, long ago buried and forgotten. The place was just plain creepy and if it had not been for his final self assigned mission Ed would have been more than happy to join her in fleeing the cursed place. But he could not - would not. After all, what better place could there be than a stage for him to perform his final tragic sacrifice.

So many things had happened, so quickly, that his head was still spinning from it all. Returning from that hideous hate filled other world only to have to throw himself almost immediately in to a life or death fight with Envy.

The face that Envy had revealed… the pain of a mortal wound …the feeling of his own life draining away…seeing that looming Gate for the third and what he had thought was the final time.

Hearing Al, hearing his little brother screaming his name and then opening his eyes again to find himself yet again in this cold and heartless theatre. Alive again at the cost of Al's existence.

But now, now he knew what he had to do.

Briefly he wondered if in the history of the theatre a play of the like of his life had ever been acted out. Had actors pretended to be brothers, had they stood upon this wooden floor and fought for each other, died for each other, one always striving to save the other with no hesitation? Each too selfless to accept the others sacrifice.

He felt his lips quirk upwards in to a faint smirk at the thought even as he pulled his black vest shirt over his head and threw it away, out of the perfect black swirls of the alchemic circle that he had first drawn five long years ago, the night that he made the mistake that had cost him and all those around him so heavily.

His hair tie had been lost at some point, either in between worlds or during his death and subsequent resurrection. The braid was slowly unwinding, his loose hair brushing against his shoulders, now without the fear of it becoming caught in the intricate metal of his right shoulder. Being all flesh again felt odd; wrong perhaps.

Edward bent and pulled a small dagger from its concealed sheath in his left boot, a short but incredible sharp alchemic copy of the variety of throwing knife that Hughes had favoured. He had intended to use it against Envy in some pathetic attempt at poetic justice but the opportunity had passed him by.

Now instead of being used in destruction it would be used in Al's resurrection. Some how Edward felt that using the knife to restore a life rather than taking one would have pleased Hughes more, although whether Hughes would agree with the sacrifice required for the resurrection was not something Ed had time to consider.

Instead he drew a deep breath of the strange lifeless air that filled this entire underground world and let the tip of his index finger on his right hand brush against the razor sharp edge of the blade. Pain shot up the arm that had been without feeling for so long and Ed winced as crimson welled from the wound. Ironic that blood – the root cause of the problems he had been facing since that night would now be the solution to those problems.

Absently he drew a simple alchemic circle on his left forearm, smearing the blood over his pale skin in a pattern that he had learned so many years ago. What had he said again…oh yes…'Our blood, from her blood – that's equivalent isn't it.' How stupid he had been.

The bleeding finger moved on, tracing the same circle directly over his heart, touching flesh that had been hidden untouched for over 5 years, trapped under the cruel icy metal automail port.

He had learnt though. Five long, torturous years had taught him the ultimate truth of more than just alchemy. He was a child no more and today he would make sure that an equivalent exchange was offered.

The finger moved on again and Ed raised his marked left arm to brush his long fringe back from his face and out of the way as the same alchemic symbol was drawn quickly and accurately on the centre of his forehead. The knife was pulled out again and this time it was his left index finger that brushed against the edge to allow him to make the same mark on his right forearm.

And suddenly it was all done. The work of scant minutes casting a shadow on the three year long search he and Al had undertaken in an effort to restore their bodies. In another minute, Al would be back; able to breath, feel, touch and taste. Able to eat birthday cake and enjoy the warmth of the sun. Able to smell the autumn weather creeping in to the wind. Human again after being trapped so long in that metal prison.

Ed smiled faintly as he moved to the centre of the beautiful and complex black alchemic design burned in to the floor, taking his place over where his brother had stood as he dragged Edward back from death.

In his minds eye he pictured a fourteen year old Al, standing outside the Rockbell house in Resenbool, playing a game of keep away with Den and Winry. How many times had he dreamed of that scene and always wondered upon waking why his subconscious mind had never also pictured himself there with them. Sitting on the swing watching perhaps, or running to join the game.

But now he understood. Now he knew he could never be a part of it. That his subconscious had known what he would have to do even if he could not bring himself to believe it.

He swallowed the burning pain of that realisation and took a final deep breath, letting his golden eyes fall closed.

"If what my dad said about the Gate is true Al's old body and mind should still be there and now his soul is there too. Maybe life has no equal trade. Maybe you can give up all you've got and get nothing back…but still, even if I can't prove its true…I have to try…for your sake Al." His voice sounded odd in the large room and rang with a conviction that he had doubted he could ever find again.

Behind closed eyes Edward called forth that perfect image of Al, standing in the sun, body strong and whole, eyes laughing with the joy of life. It was a good final thought.

He brought his hands together to clap.

And two stronger hands caught his wrists an inch before flesh would have met flesh.

A warm body loomed over his own, a good two feet taller and the harsh scent of perfume so familiar assaulted Ed's nose.

Edward twisted, shocked at the unexpected interruption and unable to fight as his hands were gently but firmly pulled back apart. Instead he stared open mouthed at the towering form of his father. His father who was here, now, back in his home world and ruining everything. Again!

"What are you doing here!" Edward yelled, trying unsuccessfully to pull his wrists free as his father turned him around, the frown on his aged and worn face contradicted by the faint sad smile on hip lips. When Edward was facing him, he re-secured both of his son's wrists in to one hand and used his free hand to brush back the wild blond hair from his son's eyes. "I thought you were stuck in that other world!"

"I was. I used the last bit of my philosopher's stone to come back here." Hoinhiem answered softly, fingers stroking through the long fringe, tucking strands of it back in to place behind Edward's ears. The boy pulled his head back trying to avoid the touch.

"WHY?! Why did you?! Why do you have to ruin everything?!" Ed cried, kicking out with his left leg toward his fathers legs, striking Hoinheim in the right shin putting all the power he could gather behind his steel toe capped boot. The blow landed and Hoinheim's expression of worry didn't change nor did his grip of Edward's wrist loosen.

"I came back to stop you from making a mistake Edward."

"Bringing Al back is NOT a mistake! It was my fault! MINE! And now its only right that I…"

Hoinheim's hand dropped from its soothing path through Edward's long hair and instead gently closed the raging mouth before his fiery son could continue his ranting. There was not much time after all.

"You have no idea how proud I am of you Edward. Or of how much I love you and Al both. Take good care of each other." Hoinheim smiled down at his stunned son, hand moving smoothly from the boy's chin to the side of his neck, practiced fingers finding the strong pulse of an artery there.

Countless times in the past when Edward was young and throwing a tantrum so bad that they had feared he would harm himself - he or Trisha been forced to use this trick. He pressed lightly in to the skin covering that key artery, counting out the seconds until he saw Edward's golden eyes roll back and his body relax, saved from a bruising fall by his father's quick arms.

"This is my sacrifice to make Edward. Not yours." He murmured, effortlessly lifting the now unconscious teen and carried him a good ten meters away from the black outer edges of the transmutation circle before laying Ed down carefully on the wooden floor.

He produced a handkerchief from his suit pocket, mutely spat on it and then used it to wipe the bloody circles from Edward's pale and bruised skin, wiping clean his forehead, chest and left arm. The makeshift flannel paused over the symbol on the boy's right arm and was quickly tucked back in to the pocket it had first come from.

Hoinheim removed his large sand coloured coat and draped it over Edward's still form, crouching lower to press a tender kiss onto the boy's now clean brow.

Then without hesitation he stood and returned to the circle's centre. The sound of a strong sure clap echoed in the silence and harsh blue light flooded the stage.

[Break]

The elevator rocked heavily as it sped upwards, carrying Dante towards the Fuhrer's estate house and the relative safety offered by her most trusted homunculi – Pride.

Things had not gone as planned at all.

Four hundred years of living, of studying the science of alchemy, of manipulating the entire country to create a Philosophers stone and here she was, still trapped in a rotting body, all because of Hoinheim's two brats. She snarled in sheer anger at the situation, clapping her hands and with a burst of blue light repaired the tear in the bosom of her flowing dress so that it again hid the mottled flesh beneath.

It was ridiculous to think that two pathetic teenagers, not even old enough to be legal adults, had foiled her attempt to swap bodies with Rose; had killed three of her seven Sins and used up the power of the created Stone – her Stone!

It had all been going so well. That pipsqueak Edward was lying dead, killed by Envy's blow to his chest; Alphonse had been lying prone in his damaged suit of armor that had been in hued with the power of the Stone. Gluttony had been munching on the metal, the otherwise useless homunculi consuming and refining all that power in to the final perfect product. She had been so close.

But no! That foolish child had done the unthinkable, had sacrificed not only himself but the entirety of the Stone in a bid to bring back his precious big brother from death.

She had waited only long enough to hear the echoing clap ringing like a death toll on the stage before turning to flee the spreading light. She wasn't about to become material in that particular transmutation. She knew only too well the high costs involved in human alchemy. Besides, with Envy lost to the gate, Wrath turned traitor and Gluttony mindless she had no choice but to flee.

It certainly wasn't out of fear of Edward that had sent her sprinting for the elevator that would take her to her most loyal surviving homunculi. He was nothing next to her – nothing. Just a weak, stupid child who knew nothing of the true nature of alchemy. He was no threat to her.

She sneered at the very thought, fists clenching at her sides and turned away from the sight of the dead City spread out below. The elevator carriage rocked again, harder this time and Dante staggered. The floor in front of her feet began to bubble and dissolve. Dante hurriedly stepped back, until her back pressed against the closed carriage door.

The pale hairless head of Gluttony emerged through the created hole, his mindless twisted eyes meeting hers and his wide open mouth turning up in to a leer as he pulled his putrid flabby body up toward her.

Perhaps her earlier actions toward him had been a bit rash.

She pressed back further, painfully aware that Pride was still too far away to offer her aid with this self caused problem.

Gluttony lunged toward her and the sound of a single sharp clap rang in the enclosed space. White light flooded the carriage. When it faded the carriage was empty.

[Break]

"Brother? Brother?!"

"Damn it Edward Hoinhiem Elric! You Promised! You promised that we'd live for each other! Wake up! Wake up or I swear I'll…I'll..."

Edward groaned and pulled away from the hand that was shaking him mercilessly, gripping almost painfully tight on his left upper arm, hard enough to leave bruises.

His head was already pounding and his body felt like it had been put through a particularly fine mincer. Every part of his body hurt and the urge to just finally sleep was being demanded by every cell in his body.

Why couldn't he just be allowed to sleep? Just for an hour or two?

"G'way…sleepin'." He mumbled; rolling over on to his right side and raising his left arm over his face in a half hearted attempt at forming a shield against the rudely interrupting world.

Above him there was a short sharp, nearly hysterical bark of laughter emitted by someone who had been panicking needlessly for the past minute. The sight of Edward's body lying motionless and pale in almost exactly the same position as he had fallen after Envy's fatal blow had been more than enough to terrify Alphonse.

The hand returned to Edward's left upper arm, more gently this time, and it guided the shielding arm back down to the ground even as Ed curled tighter up in to a secure ball. Another hand dropped on to his bare chest, pausing for a second, as Alphonse allowed himself the pleasure of merely feeling his older brother's heart beating before he manoeuvred Edward so that he was again lying on his back.

Edward mumbled a further wordless complaint, most likely about the hardness of the wooden floor he was trying to nap on and about annoying little brothers who didn't need to sleep and thus could not appreciate how tired he was and how he really physically needed just another five minutes. Breath not his own puffed against his cheek and spiky hair, stiffer that his own brushed against his shoulder as someone leaned in close.

A deep breath was taken.

"WAKE UP!"

Edward shoot upright, golden eyes snapping open and immediately scanning the surrounding area in full panic mode, searching for the next enemy that he was due to face. At least that was his intention. Half way up his skull meet another and the resounding 'clonk' of bone meeting bone was enough to make Edward wince and reach up to clutch at his head that had stepped up from pounding and now was officially thudding.

Angry now he pulled away and jumped to his feet, staggering to his left, slightly off balance before he regained his equilibrium and tried to force himself to calm down before he decided to transmute his little brother in to a decorative novelty coat stand.

"Damn it Al! I…"

The angry words trailed off as golden eyes, forced open despite their desire for sleep, finally focused on the sight of his decidedly human brother. Edward's jaw dropped and the bemused grin on Alphonse's face brightened into a full fledged smile at the rare sight of a speechless Ed.

Silence reigned for several seconds. Al stood there calmly watching Ed, one hand rubbing idly at his abused skull, as a flood of emotions crashed over his brothers features. The golden eyes went from shock, to unimaginable joy and stopped at gut wrenching fear.

Silently Al wondered just how many times his brother had dreamed of this moment, of seeing him returned to his body, only to be shaken awake by a gentle but unmistakably metal gauntlet. Waking up to stare to the empty eyes of the armour suit that had anchored Al's bodiless soul to the world for nearly half a decade.

He saw Edward swallow hard and saw the tears well up in eyes that burned like the sun. Eyes that were locked upon his own, as though in fear that if he looked away - even for a second - that Al would vanish, never to return.

"Al?" The word was almost a whimper, Ed's voice – normally so brash and confident - breaking in pain.

"I'm here brother." Alphonse answered, stepping forward and raising his hand and letting his fingers intertwine with the single hand that Edward had extended toward him in desperation, as if reaching blindly toward a mirage. "I'm real brother."

Edward Elric, the legendry Full Metal Alchemist, hero of the people, let out a pained sob as he collapsed against his younger brother's form, his legs giving way under him from the sheer emotional blow.

And Alphonse caught him easily, as he had hundreds of times before, pulling the smaller form against his chest and letting the two of them sink to the floor as they shared their first true embrace since the night that everything had gone so very wrong.

A single but powerful arm secured itself around Alphonse's waist even as Al wrapped both of his arms around his brother's shoulders, wincing slightly at the chilling feel of the empty automail port that marred his brother's right shoulder.

He stroked the scared flesh around the port, drawing random circles with his fingertips knowing from experience that the area was sensitive and calming to Edward. Warm droplets pattered onto his bare shoulder as Ed cried, head hidden in the crook of Al's neck.

How good it felt, after being so long deprived of his senses, just to feel his brother's skin under his hands, to bathe in the heat that radiated from him, to breathe that strange combination of musk, oil, smoke and metal that was so distinctly his brother's scent.

"I'm here brother." Alphonse repeated softly, leaning his head against his brothers so that his warm breath stirred Edward's fringe and ghosted across his cheek, as proof that he really was alive and human again.

He had to bend in order to bring their heads level and some abstract part of is mind wondered at how big a tantrum Ed would throw when he finally calmed down enough to realise that his 'little' brother was actually now a good six inches taller than him, even without any shoes on.

Edward's shoulders shook as he tried to desperately reign in the force of his sobs, gasping in deep breaths as his body – bruised and battered as it was – trembled from the force of his emotions.

It took a good few minutes before Edward finally calmed, his single arm relaxing from its crushing grip around Al's waist enough to allow his younger brother to stand and take a half step back, allowing Al a decent chance to survey the smaller form before him.

Ed was hunched slightly forward, his single arm – now released from Al – was wrapped around his own chest, hovering protectively over the dark purple bruise that was starting to stain the left side of his rib cage. His body was covered with blossoming bruises and minor cuts from all of the recent fights between him and the Sins. His skin was pale and his cheek bones stood out in sharp relief to the dark circles under his blood shot eyes.

Alphonse winced at the sheer exhaustion that dragged at his brother's frame as Ed climbed painfully to his feet. The last few days had drained all of Edward's strength and tested endurance that had already been stretched beyond its limits by the constant searching of the last few years.

Most noticeable though was the ugly white scar that marred the centre of Edward's chest, right over his breast bone, marking the exact place where Envy's transformed fist had driven right through Ed's heart and out through his spine.

"Brother. I think we need to leave here now and get you to a doctor." Al murmured, letting one of his hands drop from around his brothers shoulder and moving so that his fingers traced that mark, soothing over the blemish, knowing that like the other countless scars that his brother would wear it now for the rest of his life.

"Mother hen." Edward replied; his voice still choked as he roughly wiped the tears from his face before turning back fully to his younger brother. A smirk suddenly crept on to his lips. "Of course, it may be an idea for us to find you some pants before we head top side."

Alphonse flushed; then mock glared at Edward, stepping to one side and crouching to pick up the discarded coat from the wooden floor. He glanced it over.

"Funny Brother."

Edward managed to croak out a bark of laughter before again clutching his ribs, his face twisting in pain. He took a few shallow breaths then used his left hand to salvage a part crushed piece of chalk from his back pocket. He started to lower himself to the floor to draw the correct circle when Al's hand gently touched his upper arm, stopping the movement.

"I'll do it." He said; taking the chalk and crouching easily, drawing a flawless circle with a sure practiced hand. "And I am not a mother hen. Someone's got to look after you. After all you are completely unable to do it on your own." The rough sand coloured coat was placed in the centre of the circle and Al pressed both of his hands to the outer chalk line. Blue light blazed for a second as the coat changed and transmuted.

Al stood again, casually pulling on a baggy pair of sandy coloured trousers and buttoning the fly. Edward would have been able to transmute a zip and no doubt would have tailored them better but his own attempt was more than satisfactory. He turned back to his brother only to find Ed standing almost directly next to him, frowning at him. Or more specifically his chest.

Al looked down and saw what had caught Ed's attention. A red star confined in a circle about 2 inches in diameter was tattooed over Alphonse's heart. Identical to the seal that had existed for so long inside the chest plate of Al's armour, drawn in his brother's blood.

He looked back up in to the worried golden eyes and smiled.

"Think I'll start a trend?"

Edward snorted, reaching out to trace the mark, finger tip hovering over Al's skin, not making contact, as though afraid of damaging the mark that he knew was now anchoring Al's soul to his newly restored body. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, as if ready to take a blow.

"Al…Do you hate me?" Edward's voice broke half way through the question and Al winced at the sheer amount of self loathing that marred the normally vibrant golden eyes. Two arms encircled Ed's frame again and a second, far more tender hug was engaged.

"I could never hate you Brother. Never." Al whispered, pressing a light chaste kiss to his brother's forehead, one arm ghosting over the empty automail port.

What had his brother said that day in Lioro to Rose. Oh yes. 'My arm…my right arm in exchange for my Brother's soul.' How could he ever hate his brother when Ed was willing to sacrifice so much on his behalf?

"Come on, let's go." He murmured, releasing Ed and then gently taking his single left hand in his own right hand, clasping their fingers tightly as he and Ed, reunited at last, began the long climb to the surface.

[Break]

Alphonse Elric sighed and fidgeted yet again where he sat perched cross legged on the starched white sheets of his hospital bed. He was wearing a pair of navy blue state army trousers and a plain black t shirt that Havoc had 'liberated' from Central Commands quartermaster stores during the confusion that had swept through the command post at the news of Fuehrer Bradley's death.

A pair of brand new army boots, polished to a mirror shine sat on the floor beside the bed, size ten – his new size. Strange to think that the last time that he had worn shoes he had barely been a size five. Privately he was still battling the thought that despite the passing years Edward was still a size five and not really likely to get much bigger.

Al shifted position again, still getting used to the sensation of being able to feel everything, from the roughness of the material of his trousers and the pressure where one ankle rested over the other, to the occasional spate of pins and needles rushing up his legs when he failed to move often enough.

Grey steel eyes scanned the boring sterile white room, before again alighting on the phone placed strategically on the table that sat between the bed he occupied and the bed that Edward was currently sprawled out on.

It had been barely five hours since they had finally reached the surface, Al all but carrying his wounded older brother despite Ed's constant insistence that he was fine and definitely didn't need to go to hospital. It had been a long walk, up countless flights of steps. Even now Al could feel the slight ache in the backs of his calves from the exercise, although he had expected to feel worse, his body not being used to the strain.

Ed though had suffered. Not only from his wounds but from his newly restored left leg that had been far too weak from lack of use to hold up through all that climbing. Al had ended up a crutch for Ed's left side, a difficult job made worse by their different sizes. It would have been easier for Al to have piggy backed his brother to the surface but Ed's pride would not allow it.

When they finally stumbled up that last stair and in to the quiet of the Church, the Tringham brothers, who had been awaiting Ed's return took one look at the two and sprung in to action.

Russell – having easily seen through Ed's cocky grin and instead noticed the drag in Ed's left leg and the way his arm curled around broken ribs had charged outside and flagged down the nearest military vehicle to take the Full Metal Alchemist to the nearest medical facility. Meanwhile Fletcher took Al's place, slipping easily under Ed's single arm and supporting his weight as he lead the eldest of the four over to a nearby pew to rest.

The nearest military vehicle to them had amazingly been a military truck baring a tired but triumphant Major Armstrong and Co. back from their battle in the north. Al never thought he would be so glad again to see the huge form of the Major, even if his ribs still ached slightly from the mans crushing hug. He finally understood how Edward could really respect the man yet fear spontaneously meeting him. The man was defiantly an enthusiastic hugger, no doubt something that had been passed down the Armstrong family line for generations.

However, one look at Edward had convinced the major that a hug would do him more harm than good and had instead easily picked up the legendary Full Metal Alchemist as though he was a small child, and – deaf to Edward's loud protests – had carried him to the truck.

Despite his older brothers continued administrations that he was fine, didn't need to waste a doctors time, couldn't he see how busy the medical centre was and to please think of the paperwork, Edward had been checked over quickly by a doctor who had dealt many times with Ed's stubbornness.

The tally had been 2 crack ribs with 3 further badly bruised; a broken collar bone on his left hand side, sever straining to his left knee and ankle as well as a case of chronic exhaustion. Added to that was general dehydration, a bit of malnutrition and some other nasty bumps and bruises. Ed was a mess and neither the doctor nor Al were about to let Ed protest against the recommended bed rest.

A horde of nurses had been summoned and within minutes a blushing Edward was in scratchy pyjamas, tucked in under white sheets with his leg, shoulder and ribs taped up and his piercing golden eyes drifting closed as a result of the powerful sedative that the doctor had concealed in Ed's glass of water.

Al glanced again at the sleeping form in the bed opposite, smiling at the sight of his older brother resting so peacefully, the frown that normally marred his features gone for a change.

Sensei had dropped by less than an hour ago, battered from her own fight. She had taken one look at Edward, snorted and then lovingly pulled the blankets higher, tucking them up under Edward's chin; to keep him warm despite the chill of the hospital. She had then promptly given Al a once over, smacked him around the back of the head and ordered him to 'let the annoying blond know your both alive' before marching out of the room with Sig in tow, no doubt on route to Resenbool to collect Wrath.

The grey eyes strayed to the phone again and Al sighed. He had already put off the call for the past hour hoping that someone else would spontaneously appear that could make the call for him. It was unlikely though – General Mustang was still in surgery and Lt. Hawkeye was unlikely to leave his side for the foreseeable future. Everyone else in Mustang's loyal group was either injured too or resting from the recent fighting.

He had spent the last hour mentally considering what to say to Winry, rehearsing options on how to explain the situation and had yet to think of a way to tell the story that would not make the older girl furious. He knew Rose was heading to the Rockbell's with Wrath in tow. Ed had told him on the way to the surface.

Al honestly didn't know how much time had passed between her leaving the underground city and now. For a while, between his death and subsequent resurrection he had lost track of time and Ed was in no position to enlighten him. The train trip was about five hours – she could already be there. But if Rose was at the Rockbell's then Winry would be out of her mind with worry.

Two choices; One – call and get his head verbally torn from his shoulders or Two – don't call, Winry would come and check on them and then he'd get brained with a wrench. Damned if you do and damned if you don't. And he didn't fancy getting brained with a wrench when he was no longer wearing armour.

He shrugged, bracing his shoulders in preparation, picked up the phone out of its cradle and slowly dialled the number, marvelling privately at how easily his finger fit into the number ring and how smooth the phones casing was under his sensitive fingers.

The dial tone cut out and Al could suddenly hear ringing. Three rings later and the phone was picked up.

Rockbell Automail, Winry speaking. How can I help?

Al paused, smiling at the distraction evident in his childhood friend's voice. He could picture her, sitting in the automail workshop, perched on a stool with various metal parts, gears and tools laid out before her in an order only she understood. She would have the phone balanced against her ear, held in place with her shoulder while she used both of her hands too continue work on whatever latest automail advancement had sparked her imagination.

"Hi Winry. Nice intro." Al replied, chuckling at just how professional and business like she had sounded. It was the first time he had heard it. Normally Edward was the one who made the call home to Granny Pinako and Winry, handing the phone over to Al only when the older boy grew tried of listening to Winry rant and nag at him.

Al? AL! Do you know how worried I've been?! Where's Ed? Too much of a coward to call huh? When I next see him I'm going to…

Al pulled the phone away from his ear, wincing at the pain that the yelling had caused his still to sensitive hearing and raised one hand in a partially defence/partially calming gesture that Winry unfortunately could not see.

"Winry, please." Al interrupted, attempting to mollify the raging mechanic, noticing that Edward had twitched upon her yelling, despite still being deep asleep several feet from the phone handset. "Brother's sleeping, that's why I am calling instead of him."

Sleeping. That lazy…I don't know how you put up with him Al. You have the patience of a saint. If I was there I would not let him sleep in the middle of the day.

Al chuckled again, hearing the tone of his pseudo sister's voice change from anger to long suffering frustration. Ed and Winry deserved each other at times – always complaining about the other in an attempt to mask or conceal their true concern.

"He's not being lazy Winry. The doctor gave him a pill to make him sleep. He really needs the rest. You know how Brother can be."

You mean thick headed and stubborn. Yes I know only too well. Wait…what do you mean 'doctor'? Is he in the hospital again? If he broke his automail again then so help me I'll… Is that why you're calling Al?

Al swallowed hard. He could almost feel the wrench looming over his now very much flesh head despite the fact that Winry was more than a hundred miles away from Central. He'd rather go ten rounds with Sensei than face Winry in a temper.

"Not entirely." He winced even as he said it, hearing the project she had been working on take the brunt of her anger.

He did, didn't he?! That…That… there aren't words to describe just how much of a pig headed idiot he is, but one day I am going to invent one and it'll be written up in the records with Ed's picture right next to it as the definition! Well I've got a wrench here with his name on it and as soon as I get to Central I'll…

"Winry." Al interrupted softly and at the tone of his voice the rant instantly trailed off. "There was another reason I called."

Oh, Al. I'm sorry. It's…you know how mad Ed makes me. What was the other thing?

Al shifted on the bed, blushing slightly as he considered how he should explain his sudden change to her over the phone. He smiled shyly.

"Um, well. Can you tell anything different about me?" He asked. There was a pause of a few seconds.

Alphonse, you're on the other end of a phone. You know I can't see you.

"Yeah, I know. Please Winry."

Winry sighed audibly and there was silence between the two of them for nearly a minute as the mechanic considered the question. Then Al heard her draw a deep breath and hold it. He smiled, excited and struggled to keep his own breathing calm, even as he held the phone close to his mouth, each exhale from his newly restored body washing over the receiver. He knew she'd get it.

AL! Oh my god Al, your breathing! You're breathing! Ed did it! Winry stood suddenly and Al heard the sound of her stool banging to the floor. Al, are you okay?

"Perfect Winry. Back to normal." His words were slow as he turned his head toward the full length mirror that Havoc had also delivered with the pile of clothing, leaving Al with a knowing smirk.

Even as he studied his own reflection he wasn't quite sure he believed what he was seeing. For so long his reflection had revealed only a towering, scary sight of an ancient suit of fundamentally empty armour. To look in the mirror and see a human face, the face he remembered from his childhood, aged by four years was something he was still getting used to.

And Ed? Is Ed okay? Did…he didn't do anything stupid did he? More stupid than normal I mean.

Al smiled at the worried tone and stood, moving to his brother's bedside and tucked a strand of golden hair back behind Edward's ear tenderly.

"Brothers okay. A bit battered and very tired but okay." He hesitated, as he considered whether to say more, but continued despite his reservations. "I…I think he was going to do something stupid but I think Dad stopped him. I don't really know. It's all a bit confusing at the moment and I haven't had a chance to talk it over with Ed yet. But his right arm was destroyed, he needs a new one." Al could feel the panic of not knowing the risks his brother had taken or what horrors he had faced alone welling in his chest. It must have shown in his voice as suddenly Winry was hushing him gently.

It's okay Al. I'll be there soon, with a new arm for Ed and some cake for you okay. Can't let the first meal you have in five years be hospital food huh? I'll be there in about five hours Al, I'll get the fast train. You just make sure Ed stay's in that hospital alright. Don't let him climb out of any windows.

Al smiled, grey eyes darting back to Ed's sleeping form, wishing that the sight of Ed using his bandages as an escape rope wasn't quite so easy to picture. His brother's hatred of being ill and helpless was hardly a family secret after all. He let the tender smile from the thought wash the tension from his young face.

"Thanks Winry. Oh, some…friends of ours are heading to Resenbool, a girl called Rose, her baby and Wrath – Sensei's son. Would you…"

I'll tell Granny. She'll take care of them. I have to go now Al, the next train to Central leaves in just under an hour. I'll be with you soon. Winry interrupted gently. Al nodded to himself, his other hand rising unconsciously to cup the phone to his face, as though reluctant to release contact with his dear friend.

"I…I don't know what we would do without you Winry." Al murmured into the receiver, shuddering at the very thought of having to go on without the older girls rock solid support. There was a bark of laughter.

And I'd hate to imagine. Love you both. Have a car waiting for me okay and take care of your Brother.

"Yes Ma'am." Al snapped obediently, listening as Winry hung up the phone, letting the dial tone ring in his ears for a few seconds before also returning the phone he held to its cradle. He stood and stretched, feeling his body shift and sway as his muscles tensed and relaxed. He smiled at the simple pleasure of being able to feel.

Even after having not truly slept in five years he felt too awake, too alive to lay still and sleep now. He knew part of it was fear that when he opened his eyes he would once again be trapped, a soul bound to a giant suit of metal armour. He wanted to go out and explore, to take in the smells and tastes of Central, that he had been denied for so long, but he would not leave his brother here – defenceless. Exploring could wait until Edward could join him.

Instead he moved forward and easily slipped on to the other bed, beside his brother and picked up the newspaper that a smiling nurse had delivered along with some juice. With one hand supporting the paper he let his other hand drop to where Ed's long golden hair fanned over the pillow, free of the confines of his braid and began to gently stroke the strands.

Five hours would pass quickly – he was sure.

[Break]

Winry took a deep breath of the cool air tainted with the smell of disinfectant, mentally preparing herself for what awaited her behind the plain panelled door before her, identical to all the other doors that lined the ward corridor.

She too shared Edward's hate of hospitals. She hated the smell of death and pain that lingered despite the harsh scent of cleaning products. Hated the unreality of the white walls, white furnishings, white clothing. Hated the fact that the doctors seemed obsessed with removing any symbol of hope, of life from the building as though they wanted their patients to forget they had things to live for.

The recovery room back home for her automail patients was the complete opposite, decorated in bright positive colours, a window with the best view in the house, overlooking the river and the walls bearing paintings and photo's of stunning scenes of nature.

She raised her hand and without any preliminary knock opened the door and strode in to the room, projecting around her the organised 'don't mess with me – I'm in charge' aura that she knew both Al and (though he would never admit it) Ed needed of her now.

Al jerked up from his position sitting cross legged at the foot of his brother's bed, dropping the battered copy of his father's journal that he was re reading for the hundredth time. The leather coated book hit the white tiled floor as Alphonse scrambled to his feet, trying in his haste not to disturb his brother's still sleeping form.

He stood, staring as Winry deposited her heavy case and shoulder bag on to the floor to one side of the door even as she kicked the door closed again and then turned to face him. The older girls blue eyes raked his form, before flashing back up to meet his own gaze despite the slight difference in height. She smiled and opened her arms to him.

"Hi Al." She murmured and without hesitation the younger boy charged forward and all but fell in to the hug, laughing with the joy of being again able to feel the strength of Winry's arms around his torso, years of metal work lending the girl muscles that would compare with all but the strongest of men.

"Winry…it's so good to see you. Thank you for coming so quickly." Alphonse smiled, as Winry tenderly kissed his temple before stepping back and ruffling the bronze short spiky hair.

"You've grown so big Al. And still growing no doubt." She sighed in false frustration, shaking her head. "Boys, honestly – you'll be as tall as your father soon." She paused and glanced at the bed where Edward still lay, undisturbed by her entrance. "Has Ed noticed yet?"

Al snorted, taking the blond girls hand in his and pulling her over to the side of Ed's bed.

"No, not yet. There were some slightly more important things on his mind at the time. Like cracked ribs, a strained knee and complete exhaustion." Alphonse stated softly, reaching out to resettle the blankets he had disturbed, smoothing them back in to place around the battered form. The bruises from Ed's fight with Envy were blossoming in harsh purples and blues across his tanned face and shoulders. Winry sighed, picking up the clipboard containing Ed's medical records, which had been hooked to the end of the bed and scanned through the injuries list with a practiced eye.

"Hmmm. Strong sedative – they finally caught on that Ed hates hospitals huh?" Winry muttered to herself, eyebrows lifting slightly at the dosage of the pill that the doctor had slipped Ed, before replacing the clipboard and beginning a check of the IV connected to Ed's single arm, making sure everything was working correctly. "How are you feeling Alphonse?" She asked, turning back to face the younger boy who was now fussing over the fact that the pillows under his brothers head were not arranged to his satisfaction.

Really, she could easily understand why Edward complained about Al being a mother hen – though with a brother like Ed it was hardly surprising that Al had been required to fulfil the roll of a carer. Ed's recklessness was almost as renowned as his temper.

"Oh I'm fine. Excellent really. I mean I expected to feel weak…ill…

something. But I feel strong, healthy…alive." Alphonse answered; his voice if anything, slightly puzzled. Winry frowned then shrugged.

"I don't think that's a bad thing Al, but I'm afraid we don't really have anything to compare you too. You are a bit unique after all. All the time you feel well I think we'll have to assume everything is fine. At least until Ed wake's up." Winry commented, frowning at the younger boy critically before smiling and stepping away from Ed's bed and picking up her shoulder bag, opening the zip and pulling out a slightly battered but still intact box marked with the logo of one of the best bakers Central had to offer.

Alphonse grinned, his sensitive noise catching the scent of still warm cookies and the sharp tang of cinnamon rolls. He hummed softly in appreciation, his mouth already salivating for his first taste of food after so long.

"As promised." Winry said, offering the box to the boy that had suddenly moved to her side, his grey eyes locked on the box. "Now, I expect the whole story but I'll be kind and let you eat first." The box disappeared from her hand and Al grinned at her, his face though different from Ed's, managing to mirror the older boy's most mischievous smirk.

[Break]

It was late…or maybe early. Al groaned, rolling onto his back and sitting up to study the room around him, rubbing at one bleary eye as he wondered what had disturbed his sleep.

The painfully white room was dark now, both he and Winry having talked until the early hours before she had insisted that they both sleep, even if Alphonse was reluctant too. It had surprised him how easy it had been to succumb to the pull of sleep even after being so long deprived of the ability. For years he had been forced to slip in to a trace like state instead for his mind to get the rest that his metal body did not require.

The street lights from the road outside the hospital lit the room, displaying the contents in a bluish grey hue, lending just enough contrast to be able to see. The grey eyes scanned the room. Winry lay motionless on her side in his own bed, still wearing the clothes that she had arrived in, her chest rising and falling slowly.

His gaze continued on and Alphonse jumped as his eyes alighted on the form sitting cross legged at the foot of Ed's bed, which he had crawled in to as well, not willing to let his brother out of his reach after nearly losing him three times in the last few days.

Even in the darkness, Ed's golden eyes and golden hair were visible and Al relaxed slightly, recognising his brother and sitting up slightly straighter under the intense scrutiny of that gaze.

"Brother?" Al called softly, pushing back the blankets and taking note of the fact that Edward had discarded the scratchy hospital sleep wear in preference to his leather trousers and a black vest. His traditional black high necked jacket rested over his shoulders, pulled slightly to the right to hide the missing limb and empty automail port from sight.

The intense gaze continued for a second, scanning over Alphonse's face, as though trying to memorise every aspect, every freckle. Finally the gaze dropped and Edward looked instead down at his single left flesh hand that was sitting palm up on his newly restored knee.

"I…" Ed's voice was soft, almost timid and Al instinctively pulled free of the entrapping blankets, moving forward to where his brother was perched on the foot to the bed, atop the blankets. "I woke and I thought it was all a dream again. I thought I would turn and find you trapped in that armour and I didn't think I could have gone on facing that again after so many times of…of…"

"It's not a dream brother." Alphonse murmured, sitting cross legged before his brother and reaching out, letting his right hand rest on Edward's left, tangling their fingers and gripping tight. "You made it right Ed. I'm here – alive and whole – you made it right."

Edward looked away, pain washing on to his face and more than a hint of shame.

"No I didn't. I didn't make it right. HE did. That bastard…he…"

"Edward!" Alphonse snapped harshly, making his older brother jump at the use of his full name. "You will not speak about our father that way!"

Edward sat there stunned at the order, his mouth open in mid rant and golden eyes locked on his brother, unable to comprehend that his younger, timid, peace loving brother had just told him off. Regaining his composure, his lip tightened in to a snarl.

"I have every right to talk about him in that way! Every fucking right! He abandoned us, he tainted everything – eating away at us like the rot was eating away at his body. He never did anything! Anything to help us and then he comes along and stops me from bringing you back – stops me from making things right! And then the bastard brings you back himself and messes everything up and I hate him!" Ed yelled, voice thick with pain as he pulled his hand from Al's and slammed it in a fist down on to his bad leg for empathise.

Al watched in silence, as his brothers shoulders rose and fell; his breathing rapid and harsh as he struggled against the anger that was burning in his golden eyes.

"It was my sacrifice to make." Ed snarled. "He had no right…It was my mistake and it was all my fault and you ended up suffering…" He trailed off, eyes closing, face turning away yet again from Al, as though unable to face looking at his younger brother's restored form. The form his actions had stolen so long ago. "It was the only way I could make it all right…it was my sacrifice to make and he stole it from me, like a so fucking stupid last 'noble' sacrifice could ever make up for him being such a shitty father."

Alphonse sighed, moving closer to rest a hand on each of Edward's knees, his grey eyes starring at Ed's averted face, his gaze intense.

"And what about me brother? Do you think I would be happy to reawaken in my body only to find that it had cost you your life? Do you think I would have been able to live with that?" He paused; taking a deep breath, exercising a control Ed lacked in pushing down his frustration at is brother's pig headedness and keeping his voice calm. "We promised to live for each other, to fight together to regain what we had lost. We both attempted to bring back mother – we both knew the risks – we both paid the price."

Edward shook his head.

"I'm older – it my responsibility."

"No." Al answered, tightening his grip on Ed's knees and startling the older boy enough to make him look up and meet the grey gaze. "You are nine months older than me Edward. The weight of the decision was shared. The fault was shared. I do not intend to lose you Edward – we are the only family we have – and I will not allow your compulsive self blame to destroy our family."

"It was my sacrifice to make." Edward muttered stubbornly and for the first time in five years Alphonse growled and snapped a hand out, cuffing the older boy roughly around the back of the head. "Hey!"

"You dissevered that." Alphonse stated, a smile growing on his face. "Brother – I can't make you like father or understand him – but I can be grateful that it was him that made the sacrifice to restore me and not you. This way I have my brother as well as my body back. I've seen you die once – I won't allow it to happen again."

Edward hummed softly, his single hand rising unconsciously to brush his fingers over the harsh scar that sat upon his chest bone, the area still stinging slightly with phantom pain.

"Besides," Alphonse continued, reaching up from Ed's knee with his left hand and tapped one finger on the metal plate that covered Ed's collar bone, lending it the strength necessary to support the weight of the heavy automail limb. "You did make a sacrifice for me."

Edward started and nodded slightly, glancing down at the empty metal port that he would wear now for the rest of his life.

"I guess. That barst…" Ed cut himself off at Al's glare, swallowed and started the sentence again. "I think after the number of soul jumps Hoinheim did that there wasn't enough of his soul left for it to be equivalent exchange. The Gate needed more so it took my arm." He touched the metal himself, rubbing over the chill plates that was attached deep in to the flesh and bone of his side, leeching the heat from his body. He jerked his head around suddenly, harsh golden eyes glaring at Al. "You are NOT to attempt to restore my body in anyway. Am I understood?!" He snapped and Alphonse laughed, hands held up in surrender.

"I think we've both had enough of breaking taboos to last us several life times Brother. I won't do anything stupid but I will insist on helping you with your arm, as an equivalent exchange." Alphonse offered; smiling as Ed rolled his eyes, knowing that even if he refused the help, Al would insist with that look that he could never say no to.

Al smiled and fought against a yawn, shifting to pick up a long tan brown coat from where it had been draped over the foot of the bed, pulling it up in to his lap. The transmutation that had changed the fabric in to a rough pair of trousers had been undone (the white floor still had the smudged remains of the transmutation circle drawn in blue marker pen) and returned it to the form that Ed remembered. The fabric still bore the heavy scent that had so defined both Hoinhiem and Dante.

Al searched one of the pockets and pulled out a battered silver state alchemist watch, the metal tarnished with age and neglect. Ed frowned at it, knowing that his own had been destroyed when Al had faced off with Kimbley and Scar weeks ago.

"I found this when we were down in that city. It fell out when I transmuted the coat. It's fathers." Al answered the unspoken question, his finger tracing the scratched engraving of the state dragon on the case in the darkness. "I couldn't open it. They have a special catch don't they?"

"Yeah." Ed responded, reaching reluctantly for the watch and taking it from his brother's hand, looking it over in the faint light before shifting to pin the watch between his knees and using his hand to operate the catch that held the watch safely closed. It was stiff and Ed struggled briefly, wishing he had his right hand before the aged metal gave up its fight and the watch opened.

Without looking at the inside of the watch, Edward handed it back to his brother, not interested in the relic of his father's time in the military when he worked in the monstrous depths of Lab 5. Al shuffled back, glanced at Winry's still motionless form and flicked on the bed side lamp, angling it so that the light would not bother her and looked down in to the watch. He smiled at what he saw.

"You should see this brother." He murmured, offering the watch back, but Ed ignored the offer with a huff.

"Yeah, let me guess. It's a mirror right – so he can stare at himself – self centred bastard that he was. Or a picture of Dante and their precious Sins?" Ed snorted and then jerked back when he found the open watch held far too close to his face.

Briefly shocked he stared at the faded and well handled picture of their mother with himself and Al aged four and three respectively balanced on her lap. He took the watch, looking at the image in silence for a few seconds before derisively snapping the watch closed. "It doesn't make what he did right." He snarled, throwing the watch back to his brother.

Al smiled faintly, shaking his head at his brother's stubbornness before placing the watch on to the bed side table. He made no comment and instead yawned again, this time not bothering to try to suppress it.

"Are you going to sleep Brother, or sit there and glare at the bed sheets?" Al asked, stretching out again and pulling the blankets on the bed up to his shoulders again and flicking off the light as a hint to his brother. Ed growled and shifted again, till he was lying down on his side facing away from Alphonse and deposited his own coat across his chest instead of the starchy hospital blankets,

"No respect." He muttered, ignoring Alphonse's chuckle and let his eyes drift closed.

* * *

[Break]

"For the third time Edward, sit still." Winry snapped, her hand darting out to smack the golden haired teenager around the head as further incentive. With a speed that came from fighting nearly continuously over the past few years, Ed's left hand snapped up and his forearm intercepted the blow. He then wobbled for a second, trying to maintain his slouched back position without the benefit of his supporting arm and it was only Al's equally speedy reactions that saved Ed from dropping hard off of the side of the doctors couch.

"Ha!" Ed smirked at his life time friend and mechanic, who calmly selected her largest wrench from her tool kit and waved it in his general direction to reassure him that he may have escaped once but would not do so a second time. Ed snorted and placed his left arm back in to its supportive position. "I'd like to see you try and sit still when someone's messing around with your nerve connections. I don't see why you can't just plug the new one in to place." Ed muttered.

"Brother. Winry has already explained that she can't just do that. She has to check that each of the nerve connectors is functioning correctly after the ports removal and reinsertion by the Gate. You want your arm to work right?" Alphonse replied patiently, exchanging a weary glance with the mechanic over his brother's head.

Edward 'humphed' and turned away, his now neatly secured braid swinging at the motion and sending tiny drops of water to the tiled floor. Alphonse sighed and brought the towel he was holding once more to bear on the drenched hair.

Edward had awoken early that morning as he was prone to and found himself unable to rest or slip back in to sleep as the nurses suggested. Instead he had declared himself well, had stripped off the bandages that nurses had 'entangled' him in and had marched off to have a shower with the full intention that after he was clean he would start threatening staff members until he was released.

Alphonse had snowed out this idea when he had pointed out that Mustang had ordered that the Full Metal Alchemist remain in the care of the doctors until the General had personally debriefed him. This message had been repeated to Ed by a tired and angry looking Lt Hawkeye who'd added the fatal words – "Stay Ed or face a court marshal" to the instructions.

The incredibly annoyed Edward had then proceeded to rant about power hungry, womanising idiotic superior officers for a good five minutes before Al had convinced him that to pass the time till the debriefing Winry could replace his missing right arm. This had lead to Ed being perched on the examination couch in a loaned clinic room being tortured by his automail mechanic.

Winry probed again in to the nerve connection plug hidden away in the core of the right arm port with her amp meter clips and Ed jumped again, struggling to control the urge to jerk back.

"Haven't you finished yet?" He complained, shuddering slightly as despite the jump Winry continued her work.

"No Ed. If you'd be still and patient for more than thirty seconds at a time this would have been finished ages ago." Winry responded, growling softly as Ed flinched again as the meter's testing rods were moved and realigned on another connection.

"Winry…maybe if it's hurting him you should take a break. Just for a few minutes?" Al suggested, tossing the towel he held in to the pile of other laundry near the door of the examination room, his brow drawn down in concern. It was Winry's turn to snort.

"Al, you worry too much – Ed's a big boy, he can take it." Winry replied; smiling craftily at Alphonse's darkening expression. "Besides its not hurting is it Ed? Its just tickling and Ed's interior ports are pretty sensitive, right Ed?" She smirked, seeing red flare in Edward's cheeks as he twisted his head away and stared stubbornly out of the window. "Why Al, if you're interested, I could tell you stories about a certain refit where that sensitivity caused your big brother some rather embarrassing reactions."

Ed snapped back to face her again and glared, his golden eyes full of threat even as his face became redder.

"Tell him about that and I will personally deconstruct you back into your base elements." Ed growled and to his shock Winry just laughed, using a spare hand to ruffle Ed's fringe before returning to her work. Behind them Alphonse grinned and started to chuckle softly. In seconds the deadly golden eyes were focused on the younger but taller boy. Al kept smiling, unperturbed by the look, even though many well trained State Soldiers would have fled the vicinity upon witnessing it.

"And you can stop laughing."

"I'm sorry brother – but you have to see the funny side." Alphonse responded, his grey eyes mischievous. He perched on the side of the couch, side on to his older brother, their shoulders touching and easily began re-braiding the hair that had come out of Ed's plait when he was drying the soaked hair.

"No I don't and no one can make me. It was not funny." Edward growled, eyes focused on his younger brother so he missed the wink and mouthed 'it was' that Winry performed over the top of his head. Al struggled with and triumphed over the urge to smile again and instead attempted to distract his brother away from the topic with a question on alchemy.

A few minutes later Winry straightened and began tucking the amp meter away in its padded carry case, interrupting the calm discussion over the benefits of drawn circles over those of imaginary circles with her movements.

"Well?" Ed asked impatiently.

"Well, the good news is that all the nerve connections are working correctly." Winry responded, picking up a strong case from her suitcase that was open on the floor beside her. She lifted it and placed it beside her on the table that bore her tools and began to open the lid, removing several complicated clasps.

"That implies there's bad news – what is it?"

Winry glanced at the blond state alchemist and smiled a sad smile.

"The bad news Ed is that as everything is fine I will now be attaching you new arm and it is going to hurt just like it always does." She explained, seeing the expectant expression fade from Al's face to be replaced with a worried frown. Ed just shrugged; his eyes looked onto the box as Winry opened the lid and removed the brand new shining arm.

"Yeah – well a little pain is worth having two arms. So lets get it over and done so that I can get out of this white hell." Ed muttered, turning with difficulty on the couch and trying to relax down flat without putting pressure on his broken ribs. Al was there in a heart beat, his arms supporting his brother, settling him on the rough cushions.

"I thought you could bring only a spare. When did you get a chance to make that one?" Al asked softly, eying the polished stainless steel arm that was if possible even more finely built and mechanically sound than Ed's last.

"Your joking right Al? With your brother's track record with limbs I always just make a new one ready. Besides this one is a bit experimental. The knuckles and the forearm plate are titanium not steel. It's not as light weight as I could have made it but it is incredibly strong." Winry paused in aligning the arm to the port and met the golden eyes that watched her. "Strong enough to keep certain pig headed and stubborn people safe." Her blue eyes remained locked to Edward's even as Alphonse slipped his hand in to Ed's flesh fingers, gripping tight in support. The golden eyes looked away first and Winry leaned closer. "Ready?"

"Do it." Ed growled. Winry pushed the new arm firmly in to the port and turned the securing lock that would not only lock the arm in place but also bring the nerve connections together. Edward's body arched despite broken ribs and his jaw locked and tightened, clamping down on the yell of agony that threatened to escape him. He writhed on the couch and only the arm that Winry threw across his chest prevented him from tumbling to the floor as he fought off the convulsions.

Darkness closed in over Ed and he allowed his mind to relax in to the numbing oblivion.

* * *

[Break]

Three hours later found Edward Elric – alchemist for the people – limping slightly as he entered the larger, grander and better decorated recovery room of General Mustang as his younger brother hovered at his side, overly eager to offer his assistance. Ignoring the pain in his left knee, Edward forced the limb to behave and took the second step in through the door with no visible weakness. His back straightened despite broken ribs and the new metal right hand clenched, hidden under a white glove.

Edward was in his traditional rebellious uniform, from his black leather pants to his black jacket trimmed with silver, his battered red jacket draped over his shoulders, and swinging round his ankles. Even his thick soled boots, one transmuted to fit a now normal foot, were in place despite the fact that the leather has been scuffed and burned. The only thing missing was the silver chain for the State Alchemist watch that once would have flowed from his belt loop down in to his right pocket.

He reached the foot of the General's bed and halted, staring straight ahead and threw the man in the bed a salute so crisp it would have brought a proud tear to the eye of even the most deranged drill sergeant.

"Sir, reporting as ordered." Edward snapped, ignoring the slightly puzzled frown that Al was aiming at his back.

"Thank you Full Metal. Alphonse, Lieutenant if you could leave us please?" Roy Mustang requested, a faint grin twitching his lips as both the teenage and Hawkeye exchanged shrugs and stepped out of the room, quickly followed by the two military doctors that had been checking the General's charts. The door swung shut behind them with an audible click.

Edward relaxed, slumping in to his normal arrogant pose and crossed his arms, leaning against the foot board.

"So where's the parrot?" He asked with a sneer, catching Mustang by surprise. The General's single black eye blinked and he shifted slightly to sit more upright against the stacked pillows, the bandages encasing his chest visible over the edge of the bed sheet.

"Parrot?" The General questioned.

"To complete the pirate image that you're trying to cultivate. You know, parrot on your left shoulder, three cornered hat…eye patch. Are you going to transfer to the Navy Mustang?" Edward answered, grinning at the self conscious hand that the General half rose to his covered left eye before letting the hand fall back to the blankets. The man returned the sneer.

"I see you dear brother is back in his correct body. He's got what... six inches on you in height hasn't he Ed? I suppose you're going to be stuck being the 'little big brother' all your life." Mustang sighed and shook his head. "If only there was an alchemic method to make you grow. To be cursed with shortness, I sympathise although I must admit it has never been a problem for me."

Edward twitched but managed to restrain the flash of anger that flared inside of him at the familiar taunt.

He had moved beyond being upset by such simple insults. At some point over the last few days, when he had finally had time to think, he had realised that he knew the reason why he had gained no height and he no longer resented the fact. Being tied alchemically to his brother's body – breathing for it, eating for it – was bond to place a great burden upon a body already under strain from automail.

"Really Mustang, getting the doctors to bandage you up like you're actually injured just to get the nurses to fawn all over you. How low can you sink you perverted bastard?"

Mustang chuckled at that comment, loosing the battle with the grin that had been twitching at his lips and relaxing slightly himself.

"I like that. Maybe I'll advise Havoc to try that particular plan. God knows he could use all the help he can get with the ladies." The General muttered before gesturing Edward toward the seat that Hawkeye had been previously occupying. "Sit down Full Metal before you fall down. Your doctors tell me that your newly restored leg needs rest."

Edward shrugged and moved around the bed, the limp returned and dropped gratefully in to the uncomfortable wicker chair.

"I'm glad you survived facing Pride Sir. I assume you destroyed him." Ed asked, watching the pain flash across his commanding officers face.

"Yes. But not before he killed the boy he had adopted. The poor child brought Pride's one weakness – the skull of his original body – to me." Mustang sighed again, this time in sadness and turned slightly to face the teenager beside him full on.

"They don't die easily do they?" Edward muttered, his hand unconsciously rubbing at the centre of his chest, touching the scar through several layers of cloth. It still stung.

"No." Mustang agreed. "Obviously from the fact that Alphonse has been returned to his body, your own mission was a success. However when I asked Al to explain what had happened he just gave me a confused account of a hidden City, someone called Dante, your father and more worrying – he told me you died. Please tell me Edward that I am not talking to yet another homunculi?"

Edward snorted and shook his head.

"Al's just a bit confused. He missed most of the key events."

"So, you did not in fact die?" Mustang asked. Edward turned away from the piercing singled eyed gaze and said nothing for a second, before taking a deep breath.

"He…um…sort of got that key event right."

There was silence for a good minute as the General absorbed this piece of information.

"I think that you need to explain exactly and in detail what happened in this…hidden City Full Metal."

"Respectfully Sir, I am not telling the military anything about what happened down there." Edward replied; back straightening again and his golden eyes leaving the General to fix on the wall beyond him. "I would like to submit my formal resignation. I have achieved what I joined the military to achieve – I have restored Alphonse to his correct body. I no longer wish to be a dog of the military."

"Really Edward?" Mustang shook his head, sighing – this time in frustration. "Do you think resigning is a good option? Do you really think that you can go back to Resenbool with your brother and live there quietly for the rest of your life? What will you do? Fix tools with your alchemy? Farm?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"For the… You are Edward Elric, the Full Metal Alchemist and hero of the people. Your name is known throughout this country. You have explored this country and lands beyond in search of the stone, fought for and saved hundreds of people. You are needed Edward. And you will die of boredom in Resenbool. That place will never be enough for you." Mustang growled; his single black eye locked on Ed's face.

"I…" Edward started, but was interrupted. The General smirked and flicked a bandaged hand, closing his eye and leaning back his head in his most arrogant pose.

"What you need kid, is a vacation. Do you know how much vacation you have saved up? I checked you know – 3 months worth. And the end of the financial year will be with us soon. Do you know how much paperwork is involved in organising for all that leave to be transferred over to next year? It's a lot. So I am afraid that as your superior officer and due to the exhaustion you are obviously suffering I am henceforth ordering you to take all of that leave now." Mustang smirked at the shocked expression that crossed the young face and burned in those golden eyes.

"But Sir, I am resigning."

"No, Ed. You're not. I will not accept your resignation. There's change coming Ed. With the Fuhrer gone the State will fall back to the control of the old Assembly. The military will be reorganised and I hope State Alchemists will return to their original task. Alchemists for the people Edward. I have a storm to ride out and if all goes well I will visit you in 3 months as the Commander of all State Alchemists. If you still wish to resign when I visit you I will accept it Edward – if reluctantly. But use these three months to think about whether you can live with your decision."

"And what if all goes wrong. I've heard that you might be court marshalled for the murder of the Fuhrer. What if that happens? I'll be court marshalled for desertion, that's what!"

"No Ed. I have not yet been stripped of my rank. Until I am all my orders are legitimate. I have ordered you to take this leave. That order stands until someone over rides it. The worst that will happen is that you will be ordered to return to Central." Mustang reassured, smiling slightly.

"I…"

General Mustang held up his hand to silence the protest.

"Edward, you have served under me for three years. For once surprise me and obey my orders. Just this one time?" The older man growled and Edward relaxed again, closing his mouth and swallowing the protest that he really was resigning no matter what Mustang said. At the end of the day the heavily injured man had kept his and Al's secrets for years and protected the two as much as he could. The least he could do was to obey an order as easy as taking some leave.

"Fine. Three months leave accepted Sir."

"Excellent. Now as you are officially on leave and I am on the injured list, you can tell me what happened down in this hidden City. You can tell me as a friend – not as your superior officer - and I will not be obligated to submit a report in relation to any of it." Mustang said, throwing a wink at the teenager who chuckled and started in on a heavily edited version of events, knowing full well that the General would notice the gaps and most likely correctly fill them in himself.

[Break]

Winry stretched her stiff arms above her head, arching her back as she stepped lightly forward, away from her collection of baggage that a porter had kindly manhandled off the train for her.

Five hours on the uncomfortable seats of the half empty 'red eye' train had been hard going. It was one of the first times that she found herself jealous of Ed's size. He at least had been able to stretch out on a row of seats and doze. Though how he had slept with the constant noise and rattling of the train she couldn't guess.

When she had asked, Ed had muttered something sounding like 'practice' before he rolled over and pulled his crimson hood up over his head. She and Al had been forced to make do with leaning up against the compartments walls using arms or baggage as pillows. At least they were finally here and the mile walk home in the fresh morning air would wake her back up and get her blood moving again.

She looked back toward the train and smiled at Alphonse who had stolen Ed's suitcase and was ignoring his older brother's protests that he really could carry his own bag. They had collected the suitcase from Ed's room at Central Barracks – a room so sparse and undecorated that Winry could hardly believe that the two boys spent anytime there, after leaving the hospital.

"No means no brother. You're injured and it's going to be a long walk for you with your knee without having to drag a heavy case as well." She over heard and smiled when she caught the responding growl from Ed, who obviously was struggling to find a semi decent argument to use to win back his luggage. "Isn't it good to be back Brother?"

Winry gave up and laughed quietly as she ducked to pick up her suitcase and carry bag, one considerably lighter now that it no longer contained Ed's replacement arm. Alphonse had fourteen years experience in the management of his older brother. It would shock some of Ed's enemies to see them interact – for them to learn who was really in charge at times. Changing the subject would doubtless get Ed thinking about something else and by the time he realised that Al had avoided the confrontation, they would be home.

"Yeah, I guess it is Al." Edward answered, taking a lung full of the fresh yet slightly cool air, his golden eyes scanning the green fields and smattering of houses that were scattered about the station. Beyond the houses the hills began to roll toward the river and the woods beyond. He stepped forward, past Winry and began his decent from the station platform.

Winry and Al followed, both exchanging glances at the sight of Ed not only using the stairs hand rail but putting quite a lot of weight on it to assist with his weaker newly restored limb. The doctors at Central had been reluctant to release him, only agreeing when she pointed out that Ed would be coming home with her and would be receiving physical therapy from the two best automail mechanics in the district.

It was a quiet morning, a Sunday and so early that the sun was only just creeping up in to the sky. Only the stations night porter was awake and hurriedly unloading mail bags destined for families in the small town before loading return packages. As they passed by he offered Winry a smile of recognition and Edward a tight nod. He almost dropped the mail bag on his own foot when his eyes caught sight of Al.

Nothing was said though and he continued loading. No doubt within the hour every person in Resenbool would be aware that the brothers were back and whole once more.

In silence the three wandered down the main street and out, along the earth path that lead – eventually – to the Rockbell house. The road was dry and slightly dusty, parts prone to puddles coated with gravel to make the path easier during the harsher months. Its centre was rutted slightly by the wooden wheels of carts and the sides bore the wear of a thousand foot falls. She doubted that any motorcar had ever ventured this path. There were none in the town after all.

For once she was glad of that. The past week in Central had made her realise that technological marvels such as the internal combustion engine had there disadvantages. They were loud and smelly, as was Central itself, which was smoggy and rather chaotic due to the resent uprising. It was nice to come home to a place where changes in government made little if any difference to life in general.

The journey was slow, the distance that they once covered in a few minutes running all out now dragging as they wandered along the path. Twice Ed had to stop, shame tainting his bright eyes as he sat on a convenient rock or tree stump and massaged his left leg that was swelling again in protest of his demands upon it. More than once she heard him mutter about 'the damn metal one being better' but chose to ignore it.

"Come on Ed, not much further now." Winry encouraged, earning herself a half hearted glare from her life long friend who pulled himself back to his feet and set off again. In the far distance she could begin to make out the familiar roof of home.

"I could piggy back you brother if…" Al started to offer before being angrily cut off.

"I'm fine." Ed snapped, looking away from the worried grey eyes and instead dropped his gaze to the path, concentrating instead on where his feet were going to land next.

"You're stubborn is what you are." Al muttered as he passed Winry, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in her direction. Winry chuckled and decided to employ Al's own tactic against him.

"So what meal do you boys want tonight? Al?" She smiled at him, knowing that the taste of food was still somewhat of a treat for the newly restored teenager. All three of them had been forced to endure either the hospital food or the only marginally more palatable canteen food over the last week. Al for one had found himself wondering how Ed had put up with the bland if plentiful military servings which didn't seem to change between meals or days.

Before Al remembered Ed eating bowl after bowl of the tasteless stew, sometimes even going up for fifth's. How his brother had put up with it for more than three years was impossible to understand.

"Stew. Correctly cooked stew that actually tastes nice and with things in it that I can identify without having to transmute it." Alphonse requested, turning to glance at his brother who was still striving forward, his flesh arm hugging his ribs. "What about you Ed?"

"Stew sounds good." Edward answered, smiling slightly as he heard barking in the distance and the house that had been their one sanctuary since the fateful night they had watched their own house burn, loomed in to view.

"Stew it is." Winry agreed, knowing without a doubt that Granny Pinako would not only be waiting for them on the veranda but would also have stew already in the process of being cooked. She had after all, with the brother's knowledge, called ahead to alert her grandmother that she would be returning with the two Elric's in tow.

The barking was steadily growing louder and as they turned from the road and onto the narrower gravel path onto the Rockbell property, Den bounded in to view and headed straight for Alphonse.

Panic caused the breath to catch in her lungs as Winry realised that the old dog would no doubt fail to recognise Alphonse now that he had been returned to the flesh. Den was not a trained guard dog but had developed quite a protective instinct over the years. Before she could unfreeze enough to call Den to order the large dog had tackled Al to the ground and was happily lapping at his face.

"Ha…come on Den, I'm clean, honest. You can let me up." Alphonse laughed, trying to hold the slobbering beast at arms length long enough to regain his feet. In the end he instead tackled Den back, rolling the dog to its back and attacking the exposed belly with both hands.

"He's just glad to see you again Al." Winry explained, laughing at the sight of the two rolling together in the grass as they had as children before turning to where Ed had continued his single minded limp to the bottom step of the veranda and had taken a seat there. She took a step forward to him to assist but Granny Pinako was there in a flash, a cold compress in her hands and a scowl on her face.

"Den! Act your age for a change!" Pinako called and Den's ears pricked forward before he disengaged from the tackle contest with a final loving lick to Alphonse's face, trotting back to the veranda and sitting down at Ed's feet. "As for you Alphonse Elric…" The old woman continued, tapping her pipe against the veranda's rail and frowning at the younger of the two brothers.

Al smiled and stood, brushing himself off and plucking back up Ed's suitcase before all but running closer to the house.

"Miss me?" He asked, dropping the bag at the foot of the stairs and smiling at the elder Rockbell, standing eye to eye with her, even though she stood several steps above him. Behind her, Rose smiled as she rocked her baby, one hand raised in greeting.

"Back in the right body at last hmmm? I expect you won't be attempting any other alchemic stupidity now that you have regained it." She snapped, her gaze over the top of her glasses trapping Al in place with its severity. She snorted then opened her arms to him, hugging him fast for a few seconds before firmly rapping him on the head with her pipe. "Now make use of those newly restored muscles and get your brother into the house…"

"I can…" Ed interrupted but a glare from their pseudo grandmother silenced him.

"…and if he protests you have my full permission to ignore him"

"Yes Ma'am." Al replied, throwing her a rouge and inaccurate salute before rushing over to his brother to offer his assistance. Behind them Winry and Pinako exchanged glances.

"I brought them home as promised Granny." Winry murmured.

"Hmmm. How long will they stay this time I wonder?"

[Break]

Surprisingly despite the normal calm lull of activity in Resenbool, the past two weeks had been busy. Al found it hard to believe that only 14 days had past since he, Ed and Winry had stepped off the train. Ed had of course been the main reason the slow pace of life had been stepped up. Ignoring Granny Pinako's advice that he rest his leg for a day or two before starting physical therapy, his older brother had displayed his normal stubborn attitude and had immediately set to work rebuilding the strength in his restored limb.

Al, though often frustrated with his brothers pig headiness could not help but stand in awe as the smaller yet elder Elric bullied his way through every strength and flexibility exercise possible sometimes three or four times a day, using punishing regimes that left him sweating, shaking and unable to move his left leg.

If there was one thing that Alphonse knew for certain about his brother was that Edward could not and would not accept any weakness in his own body. He faced the retraining of his restored limb in the same manner that he had originally faced the loss of two of his limbs - with the complete compulsion to overcome any barrier – despite pain, despite exhaustion, despite everything.

In the space of three days Edward was walking with only a barely noticeable limp. After seven days he was jogging to town and back and in nine days he was sprinting and turning summersaults with his usual grace.

And as for him, Al found himself watching his brothers recovery with increasing nervousness, unsure of himself and his own newly restored form. His right hand still bore the bandage covering healing burns from where he had – stupidly – lifted a kettle from the fire using the same method he had employed successfully for the past 3 years.

Why would it cross his mind that he would need to use a cloth – after all his hands were not flesh – they were steel and leather gauntlets. Except they weren't leather and steel anymore, they weren't immune to temperature extremes or nerveless parts of his armour. They were flesh and blood and they burned when they touched searing hot metal that had been in the centre of a fire for more than twenty minutes. He could still hear Rose's yelled warning echoing in his ears.

He flexed the hand experimentally, pleased that all but the faintest twinges of pain had faded away under the application of the green paste that Granny Pinako had applied to the tender fingers and palm every few hours since the injury had occurred. He was healing but the reminder that he was no longer immune from sensation was a permanent one.

For three years he had been starved of touch, of taste, of smell. He had lived a life trapped away from the sweet smell of freshly baked cookies, from the sharp taste of fruit pie, from the feel of his brother's fingers ruffling his hair. Things he had missed, things that he could now experience. But it came – as everything did – with equivalence.

For three years he had been all but immortal, unaffected by pain, hunger or thirst. Even sleep. For three years he was Alphonse Elric – an unstoppable metal behemoth who could bend steel with his hands, smash down walls with his bare fists and stand before all but the most powerful projectile weapons without taking damage.

Now…now he was Alphonse Elric, flesh and blood…vulnerable. True he was still an alchemist of reasonable ability – good enough to be a state alchemist if he chose - but no where close to the abilities of Edward. And here, watching his brother, he realised that there was a risk that he would be left behind.

Alphonse sighed and looked around the green fields that surrounded the earthen path he was slowly trudging along, head down, his mind and soul weary even if his body wasn't. This morning he had woken as the day before, in the room he shared with Edward, in the same low mood. He had wandered about most of the day without aim, being waved away from any chores that he could offer to do by either Winry or Pinako who both insisted that he was entitled to rest just as much as Edward was.

Den, sensing Al's mood had at first tried to tempt Al in to a variety of games which Al surrendered himself too without joy before the dog finally ran out of ideas for cheering up the teen and instead merely followed on his heels. When Al paused or sat, Den's head would touch his thigh or rest on his knee. A constant presence. A reassurance that he was not alone. Al appreciated the effort even now as Den wandered along the path before him, occasionally glancing back to check on him, before facing forward again, leading Al on.

Before him a large healthy and very old oak sat perched on the top of one of the rolling hills, the space at its base surrounded by a well maintained but low white fence clearly marking a barrier between the rich grazing land and Resenbool's single cemetery. Even from this distance, Al's keen eyes could clearly make out both the neatly cut stones and the small form of his brother sitting in front of one particular grave.

It hadn't been just Al that had been down recently. Edward had seemed lost the past few days, since his self imposed torture sessions had come to an end. Winry had commented that perhaps the two of them were suffering from the same problems and that they should talk. She'd even attempted to set up a so called 'counselling' session between the two of them without success. No. It had to be done here, now, on their own terms.

Alphonse in all honesty did not know what to expect as he approached the grave he had not visited in so many years, ashamed to face his mother whilst without his correct body.

Edward was unpredictable in many aspects of his life and grief was amongst them. Al almost hoped he'd find his brother crying – almost prayed that Ed would let himself experience some sort of release for the countless emotions that he had bottled up over the years.

After all the last time Ed had visited this place, it had been to dig up his own mothers grave – to steal a part of her away so that it could be employed as a fatal weapon against Sloth. Against the evil mimicry they had created from their misguided attempt at resurrection.

Alphonse shuddered at the pain that still welled in his chest from that encounter – from the revelation of exactly what had been in that small and neatly tied box and from what his brother had been forced to do to obtain it. He wondered yet again, if their positions had been reversed, if he would have had the strength and determination to violate their mother's grave. And again found himself without answer.

Edward was not grieving when Al approached and knelt beside his brother on the warm grass at the foot of the grave, leaning forward to deposit the carefully picked and transmuted ring of flowers upon the grave marker before reaching out to touch the sun baked stone, tracing the words 'beloved mother' with a cautious finger.

Instead Edward sat with his legs crossed in a position he had not been able to adopt with his metal leg studying the silver state alchemist watch he held in his flesh hand.

"Brother?" Al called softly, studying his brother's intense focus on the battered watch that he had discovered in their fathers coat pocket. He noticed that the coat sat folded at Ed's left hand side too.

"Hmmm?" Ed answered, discretely slipping something in to his pocket before he glanced across the small distance to his younger brother before letting his golden eyes fall again to the watch. His metal hand, devoid of the normal glove, moved over the smooth casing and popped the complex latch, opening the watch to reveal the worn picture within.

"I think the two of us need to talk."

Den had wandered over and settled between the brothers, his head resting on his forepaws in a position where he could watch the two of them easily without having to shift more than his head.

"What about?" Ed asked; his attention on the watch.

"I don't really know brother. About a lot of things – about the future, about why you're so down…about me." Alphonse offered, looking down at his bandaged hand, flexing it despite the stiffness.

"I'm fine."

"No you aren't brother. You've been wandering around looking completely lost and depressed for the last four days and before that you were driving yourself to exhaustion exercising." Al growled, his tone sharpening suddenly. Ed glanced up at him again and sighed, clicking the watch closed.

"I've just been thinking about some stuff. A lot happened over the last month before we came back here. A lot happened down in the underground City that…I don't know…I've just been thinking about it a lot is all." Edward shook his head, dismissing the subject much to Alphonse's frustration. "I still haven't got it all sorted out yet."

"Explain it to me, then we can sort it all out together – like we always have - as a team. We're all we've got left now, especially now that Dad has…" Alphonse trailed off, his eyes straying to the grave marker within arms reach. "There wasn't even a body left to bury. No grave to visit." He murmured, voice choking slightly. A solid strong hand dropped on to his shoulder and squeezed gently, offering comfort and support even as Den sat up and nuzzled his cheek.

"You know, that's one of the things I've been thinking a lot about. Not that I care or anything…but mum – she really loved him." Ed snorted in distain, golden eyes flashing down to the watch in his hand. "And, you know – despite him being a bastard and all – he did keep the picture and he did sort of come through in the end." He carefully tucked the watch back in the pocket of Hoinhiem's trademark coat and shrugged to himself before gathering up both items and passing them to Al.

"Brother? What?"

"I figure after all the waiting Mum did for the bastard, the least we can do is have the graves side by side – like all the other couples here." Ed patted Alphonse's shoulder again before getting up stiffly and brushing himself off. Al started, looking down at the possessions in his arms and finally getting what his elder brother was saying to him. He smiled suddenly, his formerly down cast grey eyes lighting and he nodded, stepping to one side of his mother headstone and setting down the folded coat on the grass. "Stand back Al."

Alphonse backed off at his brothers command, his own lips twisting upward as Edward threw a mischievous grin in his direction before dramatically rolling up his long sleeves. The braided boy turned back to the single grave and searched it and the area with both his eyes and his senses as an alchemist, searching for and finding the resources he needed without having to steal from the surrounding graves.

A loud clap rung through the rolling hills and a blast of pure white light spread across the hill top, visible for miles around.

When the light faded and Alphonse dared to drop the shielding hand from his face he found himself standing at the foot of a grave with a double headstone. The coat and watch were gone from sight, sucked in to the earth to stand in as Hoinhiem Elric's mortal remains. At the centre of the now granite headstone was the worn family photo that had once sat inside the state alchemist watch belonging to their father, protected from the elements behind a piece of glass that fused directly with the stone. The inscription too had changed.

'Here lies Trisha and Hoinhiem Elric – for their loss there is no equivalent exchange nor power great enough to restore them to those that loved them.'

Al nodded slowly, a tear working its way down his cheek as he stepped forward to take Edward's flesh hand in his own. A large amount of the burden that had been recently weighing on his shoulders seemed suddenly lifted.

"Perfect. It's perfect brother. I think mum would have loved it." Al whispered, smiling down at the ring of flowers that had been settled on the graves plinth. Edward shrugged again and looked away, although his golden eyes flashed with something akin to satisfaction.

"Yeah…well anyway. What's been bugging you the last few days?" Ed asked, changing the subject completely and turning away slightly to give his younger brother a moment to compose himself. Alphonse laughed at the obvious diversion delivered with his brother usual lack of tack, releasing hands so that he could wipe the tears from his face. Ed took a few steps away, as though preparing to leave the grave yard and turned to Al when the younger boy failed to follow.

"Can we talk about that tomorrow brother? Or later tonight?" Alphonse asked softly, grey eyes settling on the newly transmuted head stone. "I'd like to…visit with Mum awhile. Talk a few things through with her first."

"Alone?"

"Yeah. If you don't mind?"

Ed snorted again at the question, rolling his golden eyes and turning away, patting his left thigh to summon Den to him.

"Don't be too long." Ed offered as he walked away and Al nodded, settling himself back down on his knees on the warm grass. He knew Edward had 'issues' with the idea of talking to those that had passed on in this way – his scientific mind rebelled against the idea – but he still came. Al smiled again and stretched, getting comfortable before he started explaining his concerns to the resting place of his parents.

[Break]

It was late. Or maybe early was a better word to describe it, although the sun would not be peaking over the horizon for an hour or two yet.

Ed sighed softly, his eyes flicking to where Alphonse slept peacefully, dead to the world on the bed next to his own, in their shared room. Sleep for Edward had been fleeting the past few days and he was tempted to restart the near torturous exercise regimes he'd imposed on himself during his recovery just to wear his body out enough to be able to give in to sleep.

Insomnia had been a near constant problem for him for the majority of his life, his mind simply too full of ideas or worries or sometimes haunting memories to allow him to easily relax in to a truly deep sleep. He had long ago learnt to work around it and at times, his ability to operate despite sleep deprivation had been the only reason he had survived the harsh life caused by his enemies and unrelenting search for the stone.

He sat up silently and pushed aside the blankets, before quickly snagging his black jacket and pulling it over his white night shirt. It was a cold night, the summer starting to give way to fall. Already the leaves of the trees were becoming shot through with red, the crimson spilling over the trees branches as though bleeding. It wouldn't be long until all but the hardiest greenery shed its finery for the dull grey and brown of winter.

Pulling on his trousers Edward grabbed his boots from under his bed, gave his brother sleeping face another quick glance before tip toeing out of the room, taking care to close the door quietly behind him. Like a ghost he moved easily through the dark house, stepping over every squeaky floor board, his bare feet making no noise. He smiled as he slipped through the front door, his red battered coat in hand and moved out on to the wide porch.

Only a few weeks ago he would have been completely unable to make such an escape. Al for one would have been meditating – unable to sleep in his armoured form – and would have come back to himself at Ed's slightest movement. For another, his automail leg made it all but impossible for him to sneak anywhere, the footfalls of his left leg being far too loud not to awaken someone in the house.

He stepped in to his boots and pulled the coat tight around himself to ward off the chill of the night. He stretched stiffly before flopping down in to the old rocking chair that sat on the east facing side of the porch, using the push of one foot to send the chair in to motion before pulling both legs up to curl in the large chair for warmth.

As his gold eyes acclimatised to the faint light from the quarter moon and shining sea of stars he scanned the meadows below, seeing the dark shapes of the nearest neighbouring houses and the bright reflection of the river, trailing like a silver snake through the black fields.

He closed his eyes against the reality surrounding him and let his mind provide the pictures. His chest flared with pain and one hand unconsciously lifted to stroke over his heart, reassuring himself that the pain was just part of the memory he was consciously reliving and not real. He saw the true face of Envy below him. Saw the dark blond hair, the wide brow and strong jaw. Saw his father in the Sin's blue eyes.

Envy – the homunculus that had hounded him for so long, that was preventing him from snatching Al back from that bitch Dante – was his older brother. His older brother had killed him. He knew in that split second that the blade formed by Envy's arm had stolen away his life, that because of his own failure he would be unable to save Al, would be unable to save Rose. And it was all his fault! He felt his life slip away even as Envy pushed him away, dumping him on his back on the cold floor.

The theatre faded away from him. The Gate formed in the mist before him. He stared at it, unsure and yet somehow unafraid. He had faced this image now three times. Those times the huge gate with the single eye engraved upon its door had been terrifying. A thing of dark unknown power and knowledge, its golden doors holding back the unspeakable horrors that existed in the void between the worlds. The darkness from which a homunculus could be born if any dared tread the path of human transmutation.

This time though, it seemed different. The Gate didn't loom from the darkness. Instead it seemed to glow amongst the mist, its light bright and inviting. The curve of the eye seemed softer.

The huge doors drifted open silently, revealing a wall of warm light near blinding in its intensity. There were no black shapes, no wall of watching eyes, no grasping tentacles. Only the warm whisper of thousands of faint voices bidding him welcome.

Warmth washed over his body as he stepped forward in to the world beyond.

Closed eyes witnessed again the mirage of images that had washed over him in that place. Knowledge from everywhere, from past, present and even future washing over him, his mind clawing out to grasp hold of as much of the knowledge as it could withstand before the wave passed.

He turned and saw the doors drifting closed behind him even as those distant voices grew steadily louder. He heard Hughes' distinctive laugh getting steadily closer as the doors continued their journey and knew without a doubt that there were others getting closer. One other voice in particular that he had tried to return to the world so long ago. A heady mix of fear and delight blasted through him and he nearly urged the doors to close faster.

The light near him was dulling and he could vaguely make out the forms of people moving toward him, arms opened in welcome, voices ringing with joy.

He looked to the doors again and saw for the first time that they would not shut. That a red rope of power – of blood alchemy – ran from his heart to the dull misty realm on the outside of the Gate, connecting him to life. Connecting him to the one thing missing for this to be his paradise.

Without hesitation he opened his mouth and let his own voice speak over those of the loved ones that had come to great him.

"Al."

Warm arms wrapped around his slim frame and he looked up in to the soft grey eyes of his mother for the first time in nearly five years, his body trembling as she brushed back his fringe, tucking a section of the golden strands firmly behind his ear. Everything he had failed to do, his mistakes, the costs of those mistakes almost made him pull away but the arms held firm.

"Mum. I…I…"

Somewhere, in an underground world, leather gauntlets connected and power surged through the red rope. The nearly closed doors smashed back on their hinges and Edward felt himself being pulled backwards, out of the warmth of his mothers arms, out of the calm paradise of death and back in to the pain of life. He felt air surge through healed lungs, felt blood pump through his repaired heart. And heard the angry thrum of the Gate as its doors snapped closed with one of its own missing from within, stolen away by the love of a brother.

Edward Elric snapped away from the memory, gasping as though taking those first few breaths of air in again, his body struggling to live even as his mind and soul struggled to recover from the agony of being pulled away from what could only be described as heaven. Just like he had two weeks ago.

As he returned to himself he found that he was lying on the hard wood of the porch, his legs out before him even as a warm body supported him from behind, an arm wrapped around his waist and another hand over the scar that marred his chest.

"Just breathe Ed. Deep breathes. Copy me."

The chest behind him expanded in a controlled deep breath and Edward struggled to copy it, feeling the warm exhale of air against the back of his neck and tried to breathe out again in rhythm. It was a struggle to get his panted breaths back under his control and it took several minutes as the gentle voice guided him through a simple but effective calming technique before he achieved it.

The arm around his waist stayed in place even as the spare hand gathered Ed's loose mane and pushed it to one side, allowing his supporter to rest their head on his shoulder.

"Gods brother! Don't ever scare me like that again. I come out to check on you, find you sitting bolt upright with your eyes closed and not breathing." The form behind him shuddered and the protective arm tightened.

Ed sighed and closed his eyes from the sun that was now steadily rising over the tree line in the distance, its warmth and light spreading slowly across the fields towards them. He lifted his flesh hand and placed it gently onto to the hand that had almost instantly returned to rest over the older boy's heart.

"Sorry Al." Ed whispered, still gathering himself back from the memory that had been plaguing him so vividly since the day it had happened.

"What happened? Why are you out here? Why didn't you wake me if you couldn't sleep again?"

Ed snorted softly.

"Why? So you could be tired in the morning too?" Ed asked, shifting slightly to pull out of his younger brothers close embrace though he was reluctant to move away from the freely offered comfort and warmth. The arm around his waist tightened and Ed found himself anchored tightly in place.

"Stay…please brother? Talk to me? Tell me what's been bothering you?"

Ed closed his eyes against the pleading in that voice. He had never been able to deny his younger brother anything and relaxed back against the larger form behind him.

"Nothing Al, it's nothing…really." He tried to make his voice reassuring, he really did, but it didn't sound convincing even to his own ears.

"In all the years I have known you Brother, which is no short period of time, I have never known you to cry over 'nothing'." Alphonse stated, causing Ed to start and touch his face with his automail hand, looking down at the glistening tear captured on the tip of one shining steel finger. Ed shuddered. "Please Brother…talk to me."

There was silence for a long time between the two. Blue and grey eyes staring together at the dawning sun, as the younger waited with patience the elder did not have for the answers to his questions.

"Did…did you ever see the Gate?" Ed asked finally, his voice hesitant and as close as Al had ever heard it to being timid.

"No. You described it to me once but I did not see it when I…when we were in the underground City. Or if I did see it, I do not remember it." Al answered.

"I saw it again, four times while I was there." Ed paused, seeming to gather himself. "The first time Dante summoned it using Rose's baby. Young children are still – I don't know – linked to it I suppose. She summoned the Gate and threw me into it. She wanted me to get lost in the void between I guess but I didn't. I ended up somewhere else. In another world beyond the Gate." Ed felt Al draw breath to ask, felt his younger brother's natural curiosity stir and instead squeezed his hand to silence the question.

"I…I found Father there. He said he had to stay there and wouldn't be able to help me get back. I worked it out myself but it had a…high cost. That was the second time I saw the Gate, when I came back through it, back in to this world."

Ed paused again, his hand tightening over the scar over his heart, fighting off the image of Envy's true form's face smiling as he drove his dagger like arm straight through Ed's chest.

"The third time I saw it was when Envy killed me."

Alphonse's arm tightened almost painfully and Ed heard the younger boy hiss.

"I…I thought maybe you would be spared the memory of that." Al whispered, faint hope in his voice. Ed snorted again through this time with no humour.

"No. I remember. The Gate was different though. The other times it had seemed…dark…evil somehow. That third time it has been bright, welcoming. There was no dark void behind the doors, only a warm light like the sun and voices, so many voices all calling out in welcome." Ed's voice chocked off and he was forced to swallow several times to fight off the pain rising in his chest.

"Brother…"

"I heard…Hughes was there and…and Mum and…I think it was heaven."

"Oh Brother."

"I…I didn't even get the chance to say…to ask…"

"Mum doesn't hate you Brother." Al growled, turning Edward's body forcefully around so that his elder brother had no choice but to meet his intense gaze. "She could no more hate you that I could brother. What WE did together we did out of love. Perhaps it was selfish and stupid and childish but we did it because we loved her and we wanted her back so much." He shook his brother softly before resting his forehead against Ed's. "Or maybe I should ask if you hate me for dragging you back to life when you were so close to…"

"Don't." Ed growled. "I don't hate you. Couldn't hate you. But I'm allowed to be a bit grumpy about it."

Al laughed softly, Ed's quiet chuckle chasing away the darkness that clung between the two of them. Al leaned back again against the wooden slates of the house wall and Ed shifted slightly, moving so he was sitting beside the younger yet bigger boy rather than almost on his lap.

"You mentioned a fourth time." Al murmured after a few minutes of silence. "Was that when…?"

"Yes." Ed answered, his tone clearly indicating that he would provide no further information about the fourth time he had face that dark looming monstrosity and demanded back his brothers soul from the Guardian of the Gate at the cost of his newly restored right arm. "You still haven't told me what's been bugging you." Ed stated, using his usual tact to change the direction of the conversation.

Al laughed and smiled at his brother, his grey eyes sparkling.

"Subtle as always Brother." He settled and looked away, the smile sliding in to a pensive frown. "Mine seems more than a bit stupid in the face of yours." He looked down at his now bandage free hand, clenching it before stretching the palm open to study the tender new pink flesh that would no doubt always be marked with a scar to remind him of his carelessness. "I guess I just feel a bit useless now back in my body. I used to be able to do so much… be able to protect you. I just…don't want to be left behind."

"You're hardly useless although I resent the idea that you protected me." Ed answered haughtily, invoking a teasing smile on Al's lips that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Oh please Brother. You couldn't have coped without me. You can't cook, you refuse to ask for directions, you insist you are fine even when you're bleeding and feverish. You have the life preservation skills of a suicidal lemming and act without thinking." Al answered, invoking a disgruntled huff from the state alchemist.

"So what's changed then to make you useless? You can still cook right – although I'd recommend heatproof gloves before retrieving kettles in the future. You can still read a map and ask for directions. You can still patch me up and yell at me to rest and eat. You can still complain that I never think before I act and grab me when I go to exact vengeance for any height related comments." Ed paused, glaring at Al as though he expected his brother might provide an example of a 'height related' comment. "I don't see what has made you useless Al."

"I can't…"

"I mean," Ed continued, standing suddenly and stretching both arms up above his head, "you can still fight right? Or maybe you've lost it. Maybe it WAS the armour that made you a fighter as feared as Major Armstrong. Maybe…" Ed bent down and met his brothers grey eyes with a grin of challenge on his face. "Maybe you ARE useless."

Al found himself on his feet, fists clenched and glaring down at his brother who was grinning smugly.

"There's only one way to find out Ed." He snapped and then marched past his older brother, down the porch steps and to the open garden below. Ed watched in satisfaction as his younger brother, wearing the determined expression Ed had always pictured below the helms expressionless face, settled in to his ready position on the grass.

"Yeah, there is…" Ed muttered, then with a loud shout of challenge, vaulted the porch railing and ran toward Alphonse, leaping into a perfect roundhouse kick.

[Break]

Elsewhere

"Get up! Get up you slime and move forward!" Yelled one soldier in a thick dark green uniform, marked with the swastika backed in red on his left upper arm. He shifted position, ugly black rifle clenched in gloved hand and then stepped forward, delivering a harsh kick to the ribs of the fallen man lying in the tramped half frozen mud.

The fallen man, hair grey and matted grunted from the impact then was pulled to his feet by two other younger men. All three, like the group beyond them, were dressed in rags that were once good suits and all bore the scrap of yellow cloth on their chests cut in to crude six pointed stars – the star of David – marking them as Jewish and thus as rejects from the German regime.

The elderly man staggered but managed to stay upright with the offered support, following in the footsteps of the rest of their group, nearly fifty strong made of both men and women of varying ages.

The Soldier fell back in to step with his colleagues, herding the group onwards to the ominous solid metal outbuilding located away from the 'camp' in the valley below. The camp that had been advertised originally as a safe and happy relocation site for the Jewish population, set up to protect them from the recent hate related crimes that had been rampant in all the major Cities around Germany.

Another figure, an elderly woman bent nearly double with age, went down in the slippery mud only to be plucked up and carried by the members of her community to save her from the wrath of the soldiers steel toe capped boots.

The building loomed closer. Its construction had been completed only a few days ago, the only permanent structure within 3 miles of the camp. Yesterday the first group, comprised of the eldest and sickest of the camps residents had been lead up to it, told that the building was a new residence block with showers and warm solid bunks. None of the group had returned.

The group hesitated outside the two massive steel doors and the escorting soldiers formed up in to a barricade behind the group, pinning them between the doors and their deadly rifles. Two heavy set corporals stepped up, wearing helmets and ear protectors, faces grim but determined.

At the orders of their lieutenant the two metal doors were pulled open and with harsh shouts and a large deal of weapon waving, the soldiers forced the group inside. The heavy duty doors clanged closed behind the last youth and the group was left in complete darkness within the confines of the concrete outbuilding.

Outside the soldiers scrambled away from the building, faces awash with a barely controlled terror as they retreated to the relative safety of the camp below. Behind them only the two corporals remained, moving to the middle of the structure together. Both worked as one to pull down on a chain that slowly but surely lifted yet another reinforced door inside the compound, releasing something hungry from its cage.

As one the group trapped inside, already riding on the edge of panic, turned to face the sound of the grating made as the door lifted. The scent of death and decay washed over them. Huge, distorted and inhumane lips were licked with a tongue marked with the symbol of a snake eating its own tail.

The screaming started.

[Break]

Alphonse ducked the kick easily, following the evasion with a quick jab toward where Ed landed on the grass, but his older brother predicted the move and turned his landing in to a forward roll that lead in to a perfect one handed flip that took the smaller teen out of Al's immediate reach.

Ed spun and faced Alphonse on the level ground, grin twitching the corners of his mouth as he shrugged of his heavy red coat and flung it in the direction of the porch before stepping in to his own ready position – feet closer together that Al's, poised to dart away or jump while Al's more open stance left him more ready to block or grapple. Despite having been taught by the same teacher in the same techniques their fighting styles were completely different, adapted to meet the limits of their bodies.

For nearly a minute they simply circled each other, gold and grey eyes burning with the thrill of battle, watching for an opening, an opportunity. It was Al that presented one as he stepped round, his right arm dropping slightly away from covering his face.

Instantly Ed sprang forward and snapped a left handed punch toward his younger brother's face. A moment before it would have impacted Al grinned, twisting away and grabbed Ed's arm, using the older boy's momentum and his own strength to throw Ed over his shoulder and into the air.

Ed, more than used to this form of attack twisted like a cat in the air and somehow managed to land on both feet, absorbing the force of the landing by instantly going in to a shoulder roll and as such managed to dodge the kick aimed at him. He regained his feet and darted away from his charging brother before launching himself back again, first his left then right legs snapping out in round house kicks aimed at Al's torso. Al blocked both, stumbling backward from the sudden attack and threw a right punch that Ed ducked under and used to move forward under Al's guard.

Al grunted as Ed's flesh fist partially struck his gut, having only managed to get his left elbow down low enough to deflect at least some of the force of the blow. He scowled as Ed darted away again, laughing. Years ago, before even being confined to his armour prison, Alphonse had realised that he would never overcome his brother's speed. But he had other advantages that Ed did not and he intended to display them now and wipe the grin from his brother's face.

They circled again, and again it was Ed that broke the stalemate and attacked, driving forward to Al with rapid fire punches using both flesh and metal arms. Al blocked them all, feeling his left forearm start to sting from the impact of deflecting the automail arm. He retreated back, drawing Edward toward him, and toward the nearby storage barn. A sudden front kick amongst the punches gave him the opportunity he'd been waiting for – and catching Ed's booted foot he exchanged positions with his brother and pushed him back against the stone wall he'd been backing toward.

Ed cursed, stepping back to regain his balance and found himself quite literally with no where to go. With stone at his back, a fence to his left and Al covering the diagonal escape route he was pinned.

Al threw a quick jab toward Ed's face that was blocked and followed it with a full haymaker with his right arm. Ed ducked and Al growled as his fist instead struck the stone wall behind, expecting a jolt of pain. Nothing came.

"Al? You alright?"

Alphonse jumped at his brother's question, looking down at where Ed had dropped to his knees to avoid the blow before looking back to his right hand. Edward scrambled to one side and stood again, following Al's gaze to the shattered stone under his fist and to the fist itself. The hand was glowing faintly, the flesh masked behind the ghostly covering of a metal gauntlet.

"Brother, what's happening?" Al asked in a whisper as he drew back the hand, watching as the gauntlet faded away revealing his undamaged hand. He flexed his fingers and didn't protest when Edward took hold of the appendage and pulled it toward him to study the flesh. The older teen frowned then stepped forward and threw a full punch with his automail arm into Alphonse's stomach.

Metal clanged on metal and Alphonse stepped back in shock, both at his brother's attack and at the fact that his ribs weren't broken. He looked down at his stomach that was covered in the same glowing metal of his former chest plate, though the armour seemed smaller, better suited to his new size. As Edward withdrew his fist the image of the armour faded again leaving only Alphonse's human form behind.

"Brother…that was totally uncalled for! You could have really hurt me!"

"Didn't though. Interesting huh?" Ed replied; grinning up at his brother's scowling face.

"Interesting! You punch me in the gut when I'm not expecting it and the results are interesting! Brother…you…you…" Words failed and instead Al lashed out again, sending Edward diving to the left to avoid the blow. Using speed born of anger Al changed his punch in to a grab and caught hold of Ed's ankle as he cart wheeled away. He lifted his older brother from the ground with ease, his face glinting with the cruel image of his former helm, his body covered head to toe in glowing metal.

Hanging upside down in his younger brother's grasp Ed swallowed and tried unsuccessfully to kick his way free, his blows ringing off steel plate with no effect at all. Giving up he folded his arms and glared up at Al's grinning face barely visible below the glowing armour, his loose hair hanging down to brush against the ground.

"Still feel useless?" He asked, and gasped as Alphonse flipped him right way up, then dropped him, the armour disappearing from view a second before Alphonse's right arm secured Ed in a head lock and Al pinned him to the ground.

"No. I feel as strong as ever. Yield?"

Ed twisted a few times, trying to throw of his bigger and heavier brother but training with Sig and Major Armstrong had taught Al far too much about grappling for him to get free, especially with his arms pinned by his sides by Al's legs. Finally he slumped, sighed and growled;

"I yield."

The arm around Ed's neck loosened and Al moved his legs away, slumping back onto the dew dampened grass. Ed rolled over and Al smiled as Ed's head came to rest on his stomach, his hair feathering the ground.

"So, what do you think it is – alchemy?" Al asked, raising his right hand in front of his face and concentrating on the feel of the gauntlet on his hand. Obediently the metal and leather gauntlet glowed in to life, surrounding his hand and moving with it as he flexed his fingers.

"Don't know." Ed admitted reluctantly, watching the gauntlet fade again as Al relaxed his concentration. "But the armour wasn't left behind in the underground city and it wasn't reconstructed in to anything else. Maybe it's linked to your soul somehow…I think unfortunately when it comes down to it, you're unique and we don't have anything to really compare you too."

Al laughed softly at the sulking tone in his brother's voice.

"And you hate not knowing things." Al teased, smiling as his older brother folded his arms again with a huff before rolling away and flipping to his feet.

"Well then, let's find things out. I think we should start with some physical tests." Edward dropped back in to his fighting stance even as Al scrabbled back to his feet. On the porch Winry, who had been awoken by the noise of the brothers fighting rolled her eyes at Den.

"Boys."

* * *

[Break]

Edward stretched his flesh arm above his head, feeling his t-shirt ride up over his torso as his shoulder muscles protested the sudden movement after being cramped unmoving for so long. Metal fingers flicked the cover closed on the alchemy book that had consumed his attention for the last few hours and he stood up, placing it back on its shelf before moving to the nearest window to his and Al's shared bedroom.

All day Al and Winry, sometimes alone – other times together- had visited him in his self imposed exile, trying fruitlessly to drag him away from the books 'borrowed' from the partially restored State Alchemist side of Central Library. Sometimes being friends with the 'book worm' who had been tasked with restoring the lost texts destroyed in the fire nearly a year ago now had its advantage – namely that every restored book was sent to him for supposed 'proof reading' before it was returned and replaced on the library shelves.

The first had arrived three weeks after he left Central, complete with a short note from Mustang saying simply

_Because I know you're already bored._

And as much as Ed hated to admit it, the cocky pervert was right. Sure, he had entertained himself for almost a whole week testing Alphonse's new found ability, formerly named 'Soul Armour' by Winry. Together they had found that Al had retained the strength he had possessed when his soul was bound to the armour and could call back its protection at a whim.

It also seemed to call itself forth when Al needed it. This Ed had found out by performing various surprise attacks on his younger brother – which were conducted as a part of Scientific experiment despite the fact that Alphonse was convinced that his big brother was trying to make him see the Gate by giving him a heart attack.

But after that, when Ed had accidentally jumped out on Winry rather than Al and got clouted with a 15mm wrench, things had just…drifted.

Granny and Winry were kept busy by a near continuous flow of army personnel that came with missing limbs and left with shinning automail replacements, all survivors of either the staged coup in the North or at Central headquarters. Since they had started to arrive Edward had stayed clear of the medical side of the house hold, locking himself in his room with a book or heading out on long walks that took him far and wide but normally ended with him sitting forlornly in the rubble of the house he had been born in.

It was too much to take at times, watching the soldiers come in, helpless and battered. To hear their screams from the medical lab and to re live that pain. To hear grown men sobbing where he had not. They left slightly more whole than they came, but he could see in their faces that they now considered themselves somehow less than human because of their metal additions.

Ed flexed his metal fingers, imagining the feel of his digits straightening then clamping together, of nails biting in to the soft flesh of his palm. The feeling in his right hand was a dim and distant memory, made fresh again by the scant minutes he had been 'gifted' when his body had been returned, before Al was restored to the world. His right arm in exchange for his little brother's soul. It was a small price. One he had paid willingly.

Silently he allowed his hand to drop to his side and instead refocused his gaze on the world outside. The three months of leave was already three quarters done, in just over 10 days Mustang would be coming to visit if he was not already in jail. Other than the occasional book he had received no word from Central. The news papers – always a week late – provided scant information at best as to what was really going on with most of the stories being heavily edited of any information that could cause a panic.

Several of the other children of the village had dropped by, as they had for the past few weeks – all old school friends of Ed and Al and they were currently playing a game of football on the grass plain out past the large barn, Winry taking a break from automail manufacture to referee. Alphonse was in the middle of it all, Captain of one of the teams, his size making him stand out on the field. Occasionally Den who was lying on the side lines would grow bored and dash in to the game, stealing the ball away with ease and starting a side game of 'chase the mutt' before Winry called him to order.

Ed had been invited to join in on several occasions as his brother or Winry visited but he had declined each time. The people playing out on the green, his brother included, still had the right to call themselves kids. A right that he had given up when he had accepted the silver watch of a State Alchemist. He had never been able to communicate with his class mates even before his mother had died. They had been running around talking about bugs captured and muddy puddles while he had been buried in scientific tomes, studying.

Things had not changed. What could he talk to them about? Children that had never been more than a day's walk from Resenbool. Children whose only worry was getting their chores done and not flunking too badly in school. Children whose future consisted of inheriting Dad's farm or Mum's tavern. What did he, the Full Metal Alchemist have in common with them?

How could he possibly have believed that he would simply be able to return home and forget the adventures of the last few years? How could he have believed that he would be satisfied with tilling the land and occasionally repairing farm tools?

He sighed and started to turn away from the sight, but paused as he saw light glint off of metal further up the hill from the game, squinting against the light of the low sun to see the source.

Golden eyes focused and saw something that had never before dared to breach the tranquillity of Resenbool, even when the State were searching for the two brothers after the nightmare of Liore.

Without thought he leap easily on to the window sill and jumped from the porch roof to the ground below, landing lightly on the thick grass. Then he started to run, vaulting the white picket fence that surrounded the property and sprinting in the direction of the field.

Den noticed him first, his head lifting as the strong breeze sped Ed's scent to him. He barked lightly, standing in anticipation and waging his tail, acting like a puppy rather than the old timer he really was. Winry glanced round and spotted him, smiling and waving toward him, even as she raised one hand to hold her grease stained baseball cap in place. She yelled something and the game seemed to halt as Alphonse kicked the ball up, caught it and turned to face his elder brother with a laugh and a wave.

Time seemed to slow, like he was running through malaises. He wanted to yell, but knew he had no air to do so and keep up this speed. He needed this speed. Already they were getting too close.

Alphonse, keyed as always to his brother's mood, saw that the run was not one held at a casual speed of someone who wanted to join the game. He saw the clenched fists, the grim expression, the eyes fixed not on the players but on something behind them.

Ed saw him gasp, saw the ball drop and saw him turn to face the direction he himself was watching. He saw the barrel of the tank start to drop, ready to fire down on to the group of children who stood unknowingly below them.

Time sped up.

The shell flared wide, striking the plain on the other side of the valley. A warning shot perhaps to gain the attention of the village. There wouldn't be time for the village to respond though.

"HAND OVER THE BUTCHERS OF LIORE. HAND OVER THE ELRIC BROTHERS OR THE CHILDREN WILL BE KILLED AND THE VILLAGE RAZED TO THE GROUND."

The amplified voice was near deafening so close up and the players that weren't screaming in fear had instantly clapped their hands over their ears at the first few words. Ed kept running, reaching the edge of the pitch and making no attempt to stop.

One of the soldiers on the ridge dropped to one knee and a shoot rang out.

Den seemed to jump in place as the high powered, alchemically boosted bullet struck the old and much loved dog directly in the chest. He dropped instantly with not so much as a whimper as crimson blood stained the emerald grass.

Shock and pain flashed over Winry's face at the sight but Ed's eyes didn't stay to watch. He was in a white t-shirt rather than his customary black and red and no soldiers – bar Mustang's staff - had ever seen Al in the flesh. For these few seconds they were unrecognisable – children in a group of children.

"Get them to safety." Ed yelled; sparing the precious air his lungs needed to continue his assent up the hill as he passed Winry. As he cleared the sobbing and terrified players he pulled out the pain and rage he felt at this invasion in to such a sacred place and used it to step his speed up yet again. Above him on the ridge the sun caught on the gold of a looking glass.

"IT'S FULL METAL. OPEN FIRE! ALCHEMIST - PREPARE YOURSELVES!"

Ed almost laughed, the thrill of battle pulsing through his body again even as he brought his hands together. The clap went nearly unheard over the sudden rattle of no less that 20 rifles opening up on to him.

The earth bucked, soil and grass blasting out of the flat hill side and granite, long interred out of the light of the sun felt its touch for the first time in millennia. A wall of stone rose to separate the children of Resenbool from the thoughtless soldiers who were sending countless rounds in their direction, uncaring as to whom they might kill in their desperation to hit him.

A second clap and this time the earth moved like a wave up the hill side, sweeping under the hapless soldiers who stumbled and fell, trying to ride the alchemy induced earthquake.

Ed kept running.

The tanks barrel dropped, tracing toward him and a shoot was fired as he closed in on the group. A giant clay hand caught the shell and exploded, creating a quick rain of steam and mud that fell like a mist.

Closer now, Ed could see the Tank had a new badly painted identification and the men's patched and worn uniforms that were missing all unit badges. Survivors of Liore perhaps, here to seek revenge for fallen friends, deserters all.

It mattered little. They had thrown down the gauntlet and they would find out exactly why the world had come to know the name Full Metal.

In seconds Edward was amongst them and another clap rang out as he sprinted straight past the tank, slapping his flesh palm against the armour of the tanks side. White light flickered and flared around the massive weapon and in seconds the tank seemed to age – rust flowing over the armour panels and up over the turret as the alchemic power oxidized the metal.

The rumbling engine coughed and died, thick black smoke trickling from the exhaust as the fuel solidified in the engine and the belt drive dissolved.

Once Edward was passed the tank collapsed, armour plates falling from the main structure and the three men inside were left in the ruined shell of a tank that looked now to be a hundred years old rather than just two.

Red light flashed out and Edward found himself automatically diving to the left as one of the ravaged looking state alchemists of the little rebellious band sent a bolt of pure cold toward him. The grass were he had stood only a second before was crystallised and Ed felt a shiver in response to the sudden drop in temperature race up his spine. The Freezing Ice alchemist was obviously not as dead as the military had thought.

Edward rolled back to his feet and clapped his hands, creating a spur of rock as a shield in front of him just in time for a second blast of freezing air - cold enough to kill him instantly - to hit it.

Something else hit the stone was as well and it shattered at the force of the two impacts even as Ed jumped over it and dived forward in to a front roll, planting his hands long enough to create another wave of soil aimed toward the source of the two blasts.

The wave severed to deflect yet another bolt of ice but the other alchemist's attack made it over the wave and struck the grass right next to Edward who had been lunging away. The force of the blast sent him crashing hard to the ground, rolling three times before he managed to flip back to his feet.

"You're going to have to do better than that Shrimp!"

The Ice Alchemist and the Lightening Alchemist – the latter of which had no doubt been released to serve Archer's whims after being locked up for his original attack on the Ishballen people. Typical.

A soldier near by made the mistake of bringing his gun to bear on Edward only to have it kicked from his hands and then receive a metal fist to the gut for his trouble. Maybe rushing in had not been the best idea.

"I've got the soldiers!" Ed spun at the friendly voice amongst so many enemies and almost winced when he saw Alphonse, his entire body coated in the soul armour, grab another solider and toss the fully grown man in to the air as though he was a rag doll. "You deal with those two!"

Ed nodded and ran forward again, trying to close the distance with the two battle hardened alchemists, whose long range attacks were putting him at a disadvantage. A bolt of lightening sent him scurrying back however as a net of electricity came in to being, protecting the two from his physical attack. Ice snapped out at the command of a tall but thin man whose features appeared as frozen as his alchemic talent.

Ed growled as he was again forced to dive to one side and roll back to his feet, feeling his frustration building at this stupid situation. Without considering it he pulled the gold lighter from his pocket that Havoc had presented to him upon his leaving Central as part of his promise to the two brothers to finally quit smoking. His metal thumb flicked the lighter wheel down and a spark jolted in to a small flame.

Another bolt of cold arced out only to be consumed in a blast of fire so intense that the flames burnt blue rather that yellow. The flare ran the length of the bolt of ice and ignited the ground at the feet of the two enemy alchemists, making them stagger back, concentration broken.

The protective lightning net dissolved and Ed darted forward fearlessly, the lighter tucked away safely and closed with the two startled alchemists.

A bolt of lightning flashed out but rather than going where it was aimed, the air seemed to twist it, earthing it harmlessly on a nearby tree stump. Edward closed the last few steps and slammed a full round house kick in to the Lightning Alchemists torso – regretting as he did so again for the lack of his metal leg.

The older man went down, clutching his abused stomach and Ed's hands landed on the back pack he wore that set up the circle he needed to use his main power. The metal dissolved under the brunt of white light.

Edward twisted to one side again and felt a blast of cold strike his metal arm and shoulder, a burst of instant agony igniting in his chest where the automail bolted to the core of his body, leaching him of life sustaining heat. He choked with the shock of it, barely hearing the scream of "Brother!" from Alphonse.

Ed dropped to his knees, instant hyperthermia robbing his body of all strength. The ice alchemist loomed over him, wearing thick clothing despite the warmth of the day, his heavily insulated gloves bearing an alchemic circle stitched in to each palm.

"Brother? How interesting? I think I'll let you watch me kill him Full Metal. Your dear baby brother. How does that sound?"

The insulated gloves rose and moved round, till they were aimed at the form of Alphonse who was struggling to break away from the group of four soldiers that had surrounded him in an effort to go to Edward's aid.

"Say goodbye Full Metal."

Cold blasted forward toward the fourteen year old. Edward didn't have even the power to clap as he watched instant death flashing toward the body he had given three years of his life to restore.

"NO!"

Golden eyes locked on to the blast and white light arched out from Edward's chest straight toward it. There was no circle, no connection. Raw power reached forth and shattered the bolt of ice, the air particles vibrated in its path, warming the air and turning aside the cold until nothing was left.

The eyes turned and with it the alchemic power was redirected. The stone beneath Edward's knees responded, flowing like water up out of the ground and taking hold of both enemy alchemists, securing them in place with their wrists bound and their hands forced open. The fabric of the insulated gloves unravelled and fell apart, drifting to the ground as dust.

Before Edward, the ground bucked again as the grass itself lashed out, binding the ankles of the soldiers even as their own clothing dissolved and reformed, cocooning around them and imprisoning them as effectively as a straight jacket might.

Everywhere on the field discarded weapons dissolved in to molten metal puddles that instantly cooled and reformed in to harmless blocks of steel.

Silence descended and lids fell closed over golden eyes that sparked with white light.

The Full Metal Alchemist – hero of the people – slumped backwards on to the ground and relaxed in to the arms of unconsciousness', immune to his brother's concerned yells.

* * *

[Break]

"Brother?"

"Mmmm?"

Alphonse smiled and sat himself down on the side of Edward's bed, wishing privately that the scene before him was not one that he was so familiar with. Seeing his older brother swathed in bandages and bundled up in bed – looking pale and dare he say – small was something that he wanted never to become used to.

At least he had managed to convince Granny that he be allowed to carry his hypothermic brother back to his normal bed rather than leave him in the automail recovery room. He knew Ed would be more comfortable here and it also made it easier for him to stay throughout the night at his brother's bed side.

Nearly five years of experience at being nurse to the stubborn Full Metal Alchemist meant that he placed the bowl of soup safely on the bed side table just a few seconds before Edward sat bolt upright on the bed, golden eyes open wide as he studied the room around him.

"Al?!" There was panic in Ed's voice until the golden eyes finally located him, scanning his body for any signs of injury or imperfection.

"I'm fine Brother." Alphonse answered with a small smile, leaning forward to rearrange the pillows so that Ed could sit up with their support. Edward grunted as his eyes came to the conclusion that his little brother was telling the truth and allowed himself to drop backwards, his flesh hand going unconsciously to touch his empty automail port.

"The children? Winry?" Edward asked, grumbling slightly as Al pushed his single arm back down to his side before pulling the thick blankets back up his chest. The room was warm and Al could feel the heat of the bed warmer even perched as he was on the very edge of the bed.

"All fine Brother. There were no injuries except you…and Den."

Edward squeezed his eyes shut and looked away, feeling the pain of yet another loss ache in his heart. He had known Den since he was four – Den who had as a puppy eaten Al's birthday cake. Den who had walked with them to school every day and always seemed to be there when the final bell rung to herd them through their games and childish adventures back home in time for dinner.

Den who had sat with him throughout his recovery and had accompanied him as he had re-learnt how to walk with his automail, there to lick his face when ever he fell and to bark encouragement when he felt like giving up.

It was like losing a member of their small family.

"Den…" Edward whispered, pain lacing his voice. A strong hand grasped his left shoulder and pulled him forward into a comforting embrace, Al resting his forehead against Ed's in support. A single tear escaped the corner of one golden eye and dripped silently on to the blankets.

After a few seconds Edward relaxed back again and Al released him, both sets of eyes averted in memory of the murdered dog.

"How long..?" Edward started to ask but Al held up a silencing hand.

"You've been unconscious for two days. Winry and Granny had to remove your arm. It was so cold that it was draining all your body heat. You…you damn near froze to death Brother!" Al nearly shouted but managed to calm himself, taking a deep breath before continuing to speak, his grey eyes burning as they stared at Ed. "I saw you go down, saw the clothing on your right arm freeze but…there were soldiers everywhere. I couldn't get away from them to get to you. And then that bastard fired something at me and…you…you did alchemy without even a clap."

Edward looked away again, only to have Alphonse lean forward, catch his chin and move his face back around so that their gazes met.

"How Edward?" Alphonse asked, voice pained. "It was…unbelievable. You just reached out and manipulated the air, the earth, the very weapons scattered on the ground without even touching them. And before that you used General Mustang's technique on those two rogue alchemists. You've never even tried to manipulate fire before and on your first try you create a blast more intense than anything that the General could even dream of. How?"

"I…I don't know Al." Ed answered softly, golden eyes meeting grey, a soft smile flashing on his face as Alphonse opened his mouth to speak – to accuse his older brother of hiding – maybe even of lying. "I really don't. Just like I don't know how it is that you can call your old armour back into being. I just know that I couldn't let that bastard hurt you."

Al was the first to look away, releasing his brother's jaw and sitting back, tucking one leg closer as he sat perched on the blankets, carefully observing the elder Elric's face as Edward studied the scene from their bedroom window.

Al knew without looking that he could see that the ground had been returned to its former state – the granite shield smooth back in to the earth, the bones of the rusted tank buried. Only bare patches of grass and burn marks showed where alchemy could not heal. Plant alchemy was a tricky business at the best of times and growing grass was not worth the hassle. In a few months Mother Nature would complete the healing process all on her own.

"You fixed everything?" Edward asked, impressed as he turned back to Al, an eyebrow raised in question.

"I had help." Al admitted with a small smile. "The General and Major Armstrong arrived a few hours after the attack. The attackers were arrested and transported away in Major Armstrong's custody. The General assisted me in returning the landscape to normal – said he'd had plenty of practice how to do so following your test match with him."

Edward grinned a smug grin, remembering the few hours he had spent with Mustang in the East Headquarters parade ground, fixing the damage the two of them had caused during their 'grudge match'.

"Probably just as well he did. If Armstrong had stayed to help we'd have a field full of statues of him as he demonstrated the 'artistic alchemy that's been passed down through the Armstrong family for generations.'" Edward commented, dropping his voice low and changing his tone to imitate the booming voice of the Strong Arm Alchemist.

Alphonse chuckled at the impression, the tension in his shoulders relaxing slightly at seeing his brother well enough to be kidding around again. He reached for the tray on which the bowl of soup sat, placing it carefully onto Ed's lap before handing his brother the spoon. He knew from experience that attempting to feed Ed, as Winry might have tried, was a sure fire way of ending up with a soup bowl in the face.

"The General wants to talk to you – a debrief or some such. Winry has also completed the repairs to your arm, which she says she will reattach once you have eaten." Al explained.

"Joy." Ed drawled. "Which do you think I should look forward to the most? The physical pain of the reattachment or the mental pain of dealing with Mustang?"

* * *

[Break]

The weather really was starting to turn towards the chill of winter, Ed realised, pulling his signature red coat tighter around him as he stood at the river bank. Beside him, Mustang selected a convenient rock and seated himself, his spotless uniform jacket left safely in the guest room at the Rockbells. Instead he wore a thick black woollen jumper and a brown army outer coat.

Both stared out over the water having marched out here for the very purpose of trying to find somewhere private to talk – an impossibility in the Rockbell home, where all the other residents were desperate to overhear Ed's decision in relation to whether he chose to continue as a 'dog' of the military.

It was peaceful here despite the cold. This far from the small village the only sound was that of the slowly flowing water and the rustling of the trees. Not so long ago this had been the place that Al had run to after their arguments and it had been the site of many varied childhood adventures. A small alchemically polished and shaped stone had been placed further up the embankment, in a position that overlooked it all - the place where Den used to sit as he watched over them.

Its inscription was simple but the countless bunches of wild flowers around it marked that he was missed by more than just the Elric's and Rockbell's. Den had been well loved by all of the children of Resenbool and many of the litters he had bred had been placed in nearby families. His descendants would continue to guard the steps of the resident's children as he had, against any that might cause them harm.

"You sure got here fast after it happened." Edward stated, breaking the silence with the sudden harsh accusation. Mustang glanced round at the teenager who all but bristled with anger, his single black eye sad.

"Edward…"

"I swear that if this was some way of you testing me or encouraging me to come back I'll…"

"Edward!" The General snapped, lip twisting in to a snarl as he glared at the blonde, fury written in ever line of his face. He stood and stalked forward till he stood before the raging teen. "God damn it Edward! What do I have to do to gain your trust? I have done everything in my power to protect you and your brother, I have…" Mustang cut himself off, jaw tightening as he looked away from the burning golden eyes, out back over the slowly flowing river. He took a deep calming breath.

"Ed. I know, better perhaps than anyone the hardships you have faced, the challenges and the…suffering. If it had been in my power to bear any of it in your stead I would have done so. I have made mistakes, I'll admit. I should never have threatened to reveal Al's condition to manipulate you and I… I should have told you of Hughes' death. I am human Edward. We make mistakes. You above anyone else should know that." If Mustang noticed the shudder that went through Edward's body at those words he made no comment.

"Understand though Edward that I will not have you speak to me like that. I would protect you and Al with all of my being. I would die for you. I am more your father than Hoinhiem ever was. I have guided you, advised you, watched over you, even loved you both as a father would. I would ask that you remember that when you speak to me." Mustang growled; fist clenched at his side as though restraining the urge to lash out that source of his frustrations.

Edward looked down, emotions flashing over his face as he struggled with what Mustang had said. Harder still was the knowledge that what the man said was the truth. Alphonse might be able to still be able to accept Hoinheim as their father albeit a rather absent one. He had been very young when the bastard had left them and although he had felt their mother's sadness at Hoinheim's absence, he had never understood Edward's burning fury at their father's memory.

Mustang had been different. He had given Edward what it was that he had needed at the time – entrance to the State Alchemists exam and into a world of learning that Edward desired with all his soul. He had been there for the two brothers' when ever they had been in need of him. He had helped them in their quest as much as he was able and in their fight against the Sins. He had even gone so far as to risk not only his career but also his life in going to face Pride.

But it was also the little things that he had done, things that a superior doesn't do for those under them. Things like checking to make sure they were safe every night while on missions with his 'making sure Full Metal's not on a rampage' calls. Like insisting that whenever possible they were met from the train station and delivered back to headquarters. Thousands of things that Ed had once found annoying and now recognised as the actions of a man who truly cared about his charges.

The silence dragged for a few minutes before Edward finally cleared his throat, his flesh hand lifting to rub at the back of his neck.

"I'm…I'm sorry Sir." He muttered softly.

The General glanced over, a small smirk pulling at his lips at the thought of forcing Edward to repeat himself louder but dismissed the idea as both cruel and immature. Perhaps a few years ago he would have done so but he valued other things now beyond the brief enjoyment of making his favourite underling uncomfortable. Instead he nodded softly in acceptance.

"Up until two four days ago I was still under house arrest pending a decision being made by the States newly elected Council of Representatives. I was not permitted military visitors. Two days ago Armstrong came to me to report that he had intelligence that a group of deserters were heading for Resenbool and were planning on killing you. As soon as he reported that to me we both got on the fastest train we could down here. I did not even pause long enough to inform Hawkeye – who as you can imagine is not pleased with me at the moment." A weary grin crossed Mustang's face and Edward snorted in amusement, no doubt sharing the image of a 'not pleased' Hawkeye, complete with handgun. The smirk faded. "We arrived too late to be of much help unfortunately."

"Well – we both know what an oxymoron 'military intelligence' is." Ed muttered, glancing sideways at the General who had seated himself again on one of the rocks that lined the river bank. "Do you know why?"

"They have yet to be questioned but by what they said about the 'butchers of Liore' and the identification of the tank I could only say that they were survivors of that incident that blamed the two of you for what happened and chose to try to exact revenge. It is my personal belief that Archer may have been involved in the release of the two alchemists from imprisonment. He may have even sent the group to hunt the two of you." Mustang sighed. "You really do have a way of making enemies Ed."

"Must be my sparkling personality." Edward muttered, startling a bark of laughter out of his superior officer as he stepped forward and awkwardly climbed up on to another rock nearby, golden eyes glaring at the General as if daring him to make any comment relating to height and being forced to climb rather than just sit.

The General said nothing, just watched with a peaceful smile on his face and this eye patch in place.

"I'm sorry about Den. Maybe Al can finally get that cat he's always wanted, if you're intending to stay that is?"

Edward sighed, shaking his head at the lack of subtlety and also at the knowledge that his decision would no doubt mean that Al would not be able to have the pet he had always wanted. Edward was a genius after all and no fool when it came to his little brother. He knew that no matter what he said that Alphonse would follow him where ever he went and that no power on Amestris could convince him to stay and live a peaceful life in Resenbool while Ed returned to the military.

"Changes have been made since you left Edward. The Council of Representatives is now in charge of the Military and the Republic is being reformed. The army is being restructured with many of its senior members under investigation. The politics in Central are confusing to say the least." Mustang explained when he received no forth coming answer from the younger alchemist, once hand raising to rub at his uncovered eye as though deeply tired from countless battles with politicians. He had the bone weary look of a man that had faced an inquisition and had only just come through it intact.

"Politics have never been my strong suit." Edward commented, bringing a knowing smile to Mustangs face.

"Ah yes. I seem to remember fielding some letters of complaint in relation to that. The point I am striving to reach Ed is that due to information in my possession I have come out of the restructuring in good stead. I am now a full Brigadier General and the control of all State Alchemists has been placed in to my hands." The single black eye dropped from the view of the emerald fields to study the perfect white gloves that adorned his two hands. "I have been charged with returning them to their original calling Edward – to make them once again 'Alchemists for the People' and for that I would very much like your help."

"I thought I still had seven days?" Edward asked, golden eyes glancing over at the General who nodded softly.

"You do. I just have a feeling that after today you will be leaving this place to go travelling and that in seven days it might be harder to find you." The General smiled at the look of shock that flashed across the teens features before it was wrestled back to be hidden beneath a look of disinterest.

"What gave you that idea?"

"Let's just say that Nathanial Icious – that's the Ice Alchemist – was ranting about you not even clapping and sending spears of flame at him when I finally released him from his restraints." Mustang stated with a calm grin before reaching a hand in to his pocket. "That however is a minor point that we can discuss later after your trip to Dublith. I ask now Ed as I want you very much to carry this with you on your trip."

He pulled a small item wrapped in cloth and tossed it to Ed who caught it easily in his metal hand. Cautiously he unwrapped the gift revealing the polished surface of a watch that bore the symbol of a dragon trapped behind bars on its face. A brand new State Alchemist watch. Ed ran his flesh fingers tenderly over the design, tracing it before flicking the cover open to reveal the unblemished inner cover.

"Why?"

"Because even now, in amongst the confusion raging in the world, that watch still commands respect as well as a certain amount of protection. I would like you to carry it and I would like for you to come back to Central when you are finished with your trip. The world still needs the Full Metal Alchemist."

Edward snorted and in answer clipped the end of the chain to his belt loop before sliding the watch into its correct place in his right trouser pocket from which it had been absent for too long. It might not have been his original watch but he felt somehow complete now that he had the symbol of his position back on his person.

"Still no fan fare huh?" Edward asked and Mustang again chuckled, standing up from the rock and brushing himself off. Together they headed back up the bank toward the Rockbell house, the sun sinking on the horizon behind them.

* * *

[Break]

Elsewhere

The room was almost terrifying in its simplicity and organisation. The floor was bare wooden boards, the walls plaster over a wood frame and painted a sterile white. There were one picture on the right wall and a large cabinet sat to the left. A nearly empty desk was located at the end of the room, the chair positioned so whoever sat there would view the office and door rather than the large window behind.

There was a blood red flag hung above the cabinet – the new flag of Germany complete with its black swastika at its heart. The single picture frame held a published portrait of the Fuhrer, Adolf Hitler - his brown hair tinted blond, his hard unfeeling eyes blue instead of black. The portrait showed their great leader as the ideal of the Arian race.

Upon the desk sat a deep green plotter, a closed pot of ink and an engraved gold fountain pen. A small desk lamp sat to one side. All of these items were perfectly aligned to the edges of the desk.

The man that sat in the seat at this desk seemed however rather out of place in the perfectly organised room. He had dark blond hair cut to military perfection and merciless cobalt eyes. He wore the crisp uniform of a General and stood at an easy six foot two, his athletic form setting him apart from many of his older contemporaries. It was no secret that his quick promotion was due to both his looks and also his ability to complete any order without question.

His name was General Augustus Gunter and he had been placed in charge of one of the very first of the extermination camps set up to 'cleanse' the population of Germany and any Countries that fell under Nazi rule.

The view from the window was a disturbing one to say the least, over looking approximately twenty roughly built wooden cabins in the centre of a heavily fenced compound with guard towers at every corner. Near the front of the compound, outside of the fences sat the barracks for the soldiers and beyond those was the single railway line that provided them with everything from food to new prisoners.

Barely visible in the distance, on the crest of a hill was a concrete bunker where daily the prisoners who were troublesome, weak, stupid or too old to keep up with the impossible tasks assigned to them in the work houses were marched. They never returned from the place that the General was 'spear heading' as more effective than the gas chambers.

The soldiers were petrified of the bunker and its implications. They marched people up there day after day. They heard screams from inside and other…noises so disturbing that they stuffed cloth in their ears to block the sound. No one ever came out and more disturbingly – no bodies ever came out. Whispers ran rife that there was something – some monster – trapped in that bunker that feed on the people that went inside, eating every last bit of them.

The General ignored this talk amongst his soldiers. A task quite easily accomplished by the fact that General Augustus Gunter was in fact currently rotting in a shallow grave a mile to the west of the base, his neck broken and stripped naked.

There was a sharp knock on the door of the office before the door was opened and a young lieutenant stepped in to the room, carrying a heavy metal case in both arms. Without being told he moved forward, placed the case down on the desk and snapped a perfect salute.

"Sir. This week's collection, twenty four pounds of various sized red stone." The young man stated; eyes locked straight ahead, as though – and for good reason – terrified to meet the gaze of his superior.

A well manicured hand reached out and opened the lid of the case, inspecting the blood red stones that seemed to pulse, almost like a heart beat. One, larger than most in the case was selected and examined more closely before the case lid was allowed to close and lock again.

"Very good Lieutenant. See to it that this case is taken over to Chairman Eckhart's laboratory immediately." The manicured hand patted the lid reassuringly and the younger man stepped forward again to pick up the case. He had almost reached the open door when a soft cough made him hesitate and look back to the desk respectfully. "Also lieutenant; see to it that Major Herra step up the…operation. We are due to have several hundred new prisoners tomorrow. We must…make room for them."

"Yes Sir." The young man answered and carefully pulled the door closed behind him while still balancing the case. He did not see the General smile a twisted smile and throw the stolen red stone in to the air and catch it in his mouth. The General then swung around on his chair and observed his playground from the window – watching as obedient minions hurried to fulfil his greatest ambition – the destruction of the human race.

* * *

[Break]

Chairman Eckhart frowned at the pattern drawn out below her on the rough concrete floor of the hanger, watching as several nameless so called 'scientists' moved gingerly around the alchemic circle, dropping occasionally to a knee as they deposited the pulsing red stones on top of the pattern. All but the outer circle was now completely covered in the powerful little crystals that came from the bunker on the hill. In another week enough of the stones would have been produced for the circle to be activated.

Eckhart nodded to her self in satisfaction before turning to the two men behind her, fellow members of the Thule society that had never questioned their Chairman's sudden amazing knowledge of the occult, seemingly learnt overnight. They had instead embraced the 'sacred' knowledge as having been passed to her by divine fate and followed her without question.

"I want the troops made ready." She instructed calmly, nodding to one of the men whose rank clearly marked him as a Lieutenant. The man saluted smartly as Eckhart smiled. "In a weeks time we will send out the first pioneers to Shambala."

"Yes Chairman. The troops allocated are due to arrive in two days time. We shall begin their preparation as so as they arrive." He replied crisply. The other man, who bore no rank and instead wore a white lab coat over his scruffy uniform, stepped forward hesitantly.

"Chairman Eckhart…I am still concerned in relation to the potential harm that may befall our trusting troops as they move between worlds. I appreciate we are rushed what with the schedule the Fuhrer has set us but I do believe more experimentation is required. We are not even certain where this spell will lead us."

Eckhart raised a single, perfectly manicured eyebrow and smiled slightly at the haggard and stressed looking lead scientist who had been the thorn in her side since her arrival.

"Ah, but Doctor, I share none of your concerns. I know exactly where this 'spell' will take us. It will take us to Shambala, to a world where there exists weapons the likes of which you could never comprehend. Weapons that will help us to secure the supremacy of the Arian race, as the Fuhrer dreams. We do not have time for doubts, tests or fear gentlemen." Chairman Eckhart declared, electing an agreeing nod from the Lieutenant and a worried frown from the Doctor.

With that said she turned her back on the two men, dismissing them and looked back over the diagram spread below her, blue eyes scanning ever detail, searching for any flaw. Without thinking she gingerly raised her right sleeve and rubbed gently at the mottled rotting flesh below. Time was getting short and even this new body was beginning to break down, faster than ever before.

Perhaps Hoinheim and his brat had been right all along. Maybe there was no such thing as immortality and that no matter how many times she jumped she would eventually die. But there had to be a way…a way to cheat death…a way to escape the draw of the Gate. And she would find it – regardless of how many people had to die to achieve it.

She would not die in some back water filthy world where alchemy was some distant dream. She would return to Amestris and tear the entire world apart if she had to in the search of immortality.

She smiled when she noted the arrival of yet another metal box with yet more stones sealed within. It would not be long now…

[Break]

Edward sighed softly and relaxed back in to the hard leather padding of the carriage seat of the train, stretching his legs out along the bench while pulling his distinctive blood red jacket tighter.

The weather was finally on the turn and after a brief brush already that week with hyperthermia, Ed was finding the dropping temperatures even harder to face. His chest and shoulder ached from where flesh met the steel of his automail arm and it would only get worse from this point on until the snows finally melted in the spring.

He tried to ignore it and instead glanced over to where Alphonse was sprawled in a similar fashion, although forced to curl his legs in tight to his body to fit on the bench. At least the carriage they occupied was otherwise empty. Few people were taking the time to travel between villages at this politically delicate time. Their carriage was one of only two passenger compartments attached to the train. The rest was frigate and mail carriages. The carriages had been removed and shunted instead on the trains from Central as people fled the City's politics.

Alphonse was finally sleeping although he would most likely regret his cramped position upon waking. Edward was glad. As much as he loved his little brother, Al's constant string of various theories explaining Ed's sudden ability had been giving him a headache, especially as his brother continued to question him in relation to what had actually happened upon his 'death'.

Unsurprisingly it was not a topic that Edward wanted to openly discuss.

At least now he had the peace and familiar noises of the train to help him think without the constant interruptions of either Winry or his brother.

He let his golden eyes drift closed, dropping his head forward slightly so that his raised hood shadowed his face. With another deep sigh he relaxed the guard on his own memories and allowed the day of his 'death' to come to the forefront. He watched it replay, felt that blast of pain through his heart yet again, as though the wound was made anew.

And he watched, as no other had before him, as the whole of the truth of the Gate and the worlds beyond flashed before his eyes. Things that years ago he had seen at the Gate, upon the attempted resurrection of his mother, that he had not understood were now clear. He was no longer a child, scrambling for knowledge while terrified for his brother's safety.

No. Now he was an adult. A man that had walked between the two worlds. A man that had walked into the Gate to the place beyond life. Who had died and been reborn.

He relaxed and allowed the knowledge of the Gate to wash over him and into him, knowing as he did so that he would never truly be solely of Amestris ever again.

He had not been stolen away from the Gate by his brother. It had been foolish of him to think that the Gate had been unable to sever the bond that existed between them. If it had wanted him to remain; those golden doors would have swung shut, crushing the ribbon and leaving him trapped in the place beyond worlds.

No. The Gate had let him go.

And Ed could only wonder why…

[Break]

The station at Dublith had been busy – scarily so for such a small and relatively back water town. In the chaos caused by the recent and swift power changes that were occurring as a result of the overthrow of the Fuhrer many people had felt it safer to flee Central for the calm of the countryside until things in the Capital had settled.

The hotels and hostels were packed to bursting point and Edward was glad that Sig had attended the station to meet them on their arrival. Edward had no doubt that he had Winry to thank for that – as neither him nor Al had thought to phone ahead to let the Curtis family know that they were on route for a visit.

Sig, who towered over everyone else in the station was easy to spot in the seething crowd and due to his sheer bulk, had absolutely no problems in clearing a path through the crowd for the 2 teenagers. A fact that relived Edward – who as one of the shortest amongst any crowd – always suffered from being bumped in to and barged repeatedly.

The walk to the Curtis house was silent. Sig – always a man of few if any words – did not answer any of Alphonse's questions in relation to the wellbeing of the man's family. He looked more gruff than usual – something Ed was personally amazed was even possible – and even Al's normal good cheer dulled as they walked.

Edward didn't even try to make conversation. While Sig and Al had always maintained a reasonably good relationship he had never managed to find the right 'wavelength' with which to speak to or interact with the massive man. Al – when confined in his armour – had even been able to go toe to toe with Sig, and had learnt a great deal from him in relation to wrestling during their last brief stay in Dublith.

Since their meeting when Sensei had come to 'collect' the boys and had sent the two back to the Island to relearn their first and most important lesson, Edward had sensed had dark tension between himself and Sig. As though the man had taken a dislike to him when he had found out what had happened as a result of their failed attempt to resurrect their mother.

This had only deepened since and Ed could hardly blame the man. After all, he had tried several times now to destroy the homunculus that had been resurrected from Izumi's still born son. He had also led Izumi to risk herself and injure herself due to his own occasionally reckless actions. The man had ample reason to dislike him.

The house was quiet as they approached it and walked up the steps. The children that normally played with Mason in the front garden and who continuously begged Izumi to fix their broken toys or show them more 'magic' were missing.

Playful shouts instead echoed from the local park the next street over. For some reason some of the life seemed to be missing from the place that Edward had once considered to be his second home – in the days before he had taken in the silver watch of a State Alchemist.

Edward closed his golden eyes as he stepped through the front door, bracing himself as his heart pounded with dread at what he might find within; in this former sanctuary.

He let his eyes open again, ready to take the news that he had lost yet another person dear to him and was surprised instead to see Mason sitting calmly on the main worn but comfortable sofa in the open plan living room. Wrath was perched beside him and looked rather subdued as Mason guided the young homunculus through a 'first reader' picture book.

It would have been an almost amusing sight had it not been for the almost oppressive atmosphere in the room.

"Sig. Where is Sensei? Is she okay?" Alphonse asked; his voice low as though frightened to break the quiet but also worried. His grey eyes flickered around the room, scanning for any sign of the woman who had been almost a second mother to the two boys.

Both Mason and Wrath looked up at the sound of Al's voice, startled by the sudden presence of the three of them in the house.

Sig did not answer immediately although Edward noticed that his shoulders stiffened at the words. Instead he ignored the two Elric's and walked forward, easily catching Wrath who had thrown himself at his father the second he had noticed that the big man was in the room.

It took a lot of self discipline and Al's hand on his shoulder not to react at the sight of the black haired homunculus running towards him. Too many times in the past months Edward had seen the youth dash toward him like that, wearing an angry sneer, intending to attack him and steal the rest of his body from him.

The boy had changed though and he had helped Ed during that last frantic fight with Envy. Enough so that Edward had returned the favour and had seen to it that the limbs that Wrath had lost to the Gate had been replaced. Even now, some of the Rockbell's best automail adorned the boy's slim form – replacing his right arm and left leg. Ed found himself rubbing at his own arm port in sympathy to the pain that the Sin had endured during the operations required to attach the automail.

Edward had not seen the boy since that fateful day, down in the underground city. It was strange to see him in black denim dungarees with a white t-shirt on, wearing light weight brown boots. Even his hair, that fell to his waist had been neatly brushed and tied back from his face in to a long pony tail. Stranger still to see the Sin settled in Sig's massive arms as though he belonged there, as though he was nothing more than a child welcoming home a parent.

"Sig…" Al tried again, having also been momentarily stunned by the sight of one of the Sin's that had hunted and plagued them for several years during their quest. Al was interrupted though by Sig's growling voice.

"Upstairs."

Part of the dread eased from Edward's chest and he saw Alphonse visibly relax out of the corner of his eye. Sensei was not dead then, just ill again. One of Sig's shovel like hands gestured to the stair well, granting unspoken permission for the two teenagers to go upstairs to visit their teacher.

Al nearly sprinted up the stairs in front of Edward, who instead climbed slowly, dragging his feet, as though climbing a mountain rather than a single flight of stairs. Al dashed across the hall and knocked nervously at the heavy door that lead to the house's master bedroom before pressing his ear to the wood, awaiting permission to enter impatiently.

Edward didn't rush after him. He had not missed the look of sudden panic on Wrath's face as he had moved past him to get to the stairs, nor had he missed Sig's attempts to calm the Sin. Wrath did not want Ed near his 'new' mother. Edward couldn't blame him for that. After all in Wrath's eyes, Edward was the destroyer of mother's. He had lost his own and then killed the creature that had worn Trisha Elric's face. He had destroyed Sloth, right before the boy's eyes.

Alphonse must have heard a call to enter from the bedroom for he all but threw open the door and dashed in before pulling up short at the sight of the normally strong and often terrifying Master Alchemist lying pale and weak in her bed.

Edward had braced himself, but even that preparation had not been sufficient. He had seen his teacher ill in the past. He had seen her collapse, coughing up blood as a result of the sacrifice she had made all those years ago when she tried to bring her still born son back from the dead. But never in his memory had he seen her look this ill.

Her skin was nearly white and her hair, dreadlocked as always seemed dull. Upon there entry she had concealed a blood covered cloth that she had been coughing into under the sheets in an attempt to save them from the sight of the crimson reality. She had lost weight and she had not had that much to lose in the first place.

It seemed that she had regained her son just in time for her body – that had fought against nature for so long – to finally surrender to the inevitable.

Despite her obvious discomfort she managed a soft smile for Alphonse, her black eyes sparking as she scanned over his restored body, as though checking for any damage caused since she last saw him in the hospital nearly 3 months ago.

"Alphonse." She beaconed Al forward and with a suppressed whimper that sounded suspiciously like the word 'Sensei' Al all but threw himself in to her arms, accepting the hug. "Who knew you'd turn out so tall?"

Izumi kissed the fourteen year olds forehead and ran her fingers through his bronze fringe, offering soothing words to the boy, who despite the toughness life had taught him, was still heavily effected by seeing a loved one so ill. Izumi's black eyes darted over to where Edward stood at the door way, as though reluctant to take that final step in to the room.

Edward said nothing at the obviously baited comment. Even Wrath was in danger of over taking the eldest Elric in height. A thought that made the golden haired alchemists blood stir and his chest burn with old anger. It made him want to yell in protest and kick out at any tormentor that dared question his stature but time and recent events had given him the power to silence those impulses.

The sight before him was too familiar to allow for anything beyond clawing sadness anyway. He had stood in a room not to dissimilar from this one once and looked down upon a woman who he had thought invincible – who he had thought would be there forever – and had watched that woman, his mother, slip from the world of the living. Now history was repeating itself before his eyes. Now he was visiting yet another death bed to say good bye to yet another loved one.

Izumi's black eyes turned questioning as he slipped in to the room and took a position furthest from the bed, leaning against the wall and folding his arms across his chest, his flesh arm clasping the automail one in a defensive gesture. He let his golden eyes fall closed. He couldn't face the scene before him. He could only block it out.

Al glanced at Edward as well, the combined weight of the knowing gazes almost painful. Ed could sense Al drawing breath to reprimand him for his distance, to call him forward to greet Izumi in the same way he had done, not understanding that Ed did not dare to touch Izumi.

The master alchemist saved him from whatever comment had been brewing.

"So, bodies restored and the world put to rights I assume? Do I dare ask what next impossible challenge the Great Elric Brothers as going to attempt next?" Izumi asked, sarcasm tainting her voice, pausing half way through the comment to choke back on a rattling cough that shock her slim frame. Alphonse forced a smile and shrugged.

"I don't think we've decided yet. There are so many supposedly impossible things out there that it's hard to decide where to start. Isn't that right brother?" Alphonse joked, trying almost desperately to include Edward in the banter. Edward simply shrugged stiffly, turning slightly so that the chain of his pocket watch was out of Izumi's direct sight. One decision at least had been made about their future. A decision that Izumi would not approve of.

"How about you tell me how you managed to completed your first impossible quest before planning the next?" Their teacher asked, as Al settled back, seated on the edge of the bed rather than knelling on the ground beside it. Again he glanced at Edward.

"Um…I think brother should really tell it. He knows more of what happened than…"

"Nonsense. You tell me Alphonse. I'm more likely to get the truth from you." Izumi chided, shaking her head and focusing her gaze on the taller of the pair. She winked at him as though trying to reassure him despite the obvious tension in the room. "You should know by now that your brother only works in half truths and at times outright lies in an effort to protect those around him from the reality of the world." She glanced at the blond but Edward's eyes were still averted.

"Well, um…it's all a bit confusing." Alphonse commented, scratching the back of his head nervously. "I was stupid and got caught by Dante. She had Gluttony start to eat my bo…the armour I was in because Scar had made me in to the Philosophers stone and she wanted the stone to be purified." Alphonse paused with a regretful glance at their teacher at the memory of the stupidity that had lead to his capture – something Izumi was well aware of.

"Anyway, Brother showed up and he fought Dante. She threw him into the Gate. Brother said he found another world through the Gate and found Father there." Again Al hesitated, as though waiting for Edward to step in to give a more detailed explanation. When nothing was forthcoming he reluctantly continued.

"Brother came back through the Gate and fought with Envy. Something happened and Envy got in a strike. Envy stabbed Brother through the chest. Brother…Brother died."

If this news shocked Izumi her expression did not change nor did she start firing off questions. It made Ed wonder just how much of this story she had already obtained from Wrath.

"I couldn't let Brother die. I got away from Gluttony and activated the Stone. After that I don't really remember anything until I woke up on the floor in the centre of a transmutation circle and found brother unconscious nearby. Brother said that Father came back from the other world and prevented Ed from sacrificing himself to bring me back. Father offered himself instead and that's how I got my body back."

"Really?" Izumi smiled at Alphonse as he drew to the end of the story although her eyes remained on Edward, her gaze calculating as she no doubt weighed Al's account against the information that she already had at her disposal. The fact that her body had weakened had not affected her mind in any way.

"Yes. But that's not everything. We came to ask you about something. I can call my armour back and Brother can do alchemy without a clap and …" Alphonse trailed off, noticing both the grimace that had passed over his Brother's face at his words and also the sharp in drawn breath that came from his teacher. His grey eyes darted back and forth between the two uncertainly. Silence lingered painfully in the room for a few second before Izumi quietly broke it.

"Alphonse?"

"Yes Sensei?"

"Would you leave your brother and I alone to talk for a while please. We need to discuss a few things."

Alphonse stood but hesitated before moving away, his body language resigned.

"Are you going to beat Brother up again?" He asked. Ed's eyes shot open and he glared at his younger brother who, pleased at finally breaking the tension in the room, was grinning mischievously. Izumi laughed suddenly and nudged Al, gesturing him toward the door.

"No Al. I'm hardly in a fit state to pummel on your Brother, although I have no doubt that he deserves it." Al nodded and moved away, stepping quietly through the door and pulling it closed behind him. The soft click of it shutting echoed in the silence of the room. Al hesitated at the door before stepping away, his foot steps echoing through the quiet house as he walked across the hall and descended the stairs.

"Am I bringing back bad memories Edward?" Izumi murmured, sitting up straighter against the pillows as she turned fully to face the youngest ever state alchemist. Edward sighed and opened golden eyes that had seen more than 15 years of life could really account for. Eyes that had seen beyond this world, into another and in to the places beyond.

"I…I have stood at the side of a death bed before and been helpless to stop the person I loved from slipping away. I don't exactly want to repeat the experience." He muttered; letting his arms dropped from there folded position across his chest.

"So you will run away rather than face it again. Or will you clap your hands and make the same mistake again?"

A shudder ran though Edward's body at her words and he clenched his fists, turning fully toward her for the first time since he entered the room.

"Forgive me for not wanting the people that I love to die!" He shouted, voice deafening in the eerie stillness that seemed to have invaded the formerly lively household.

"No one lives for ever Edward. I have taught you that every way that I can. You have seen the Gate more times than any other, been through it, been inside it. You've even died yourself." Izumi accused and without conscious though Edward's flesh hand rose to his chest and rubbed over the scar that stained his chest directly over his heart. Izumi saw the move and sighed, coughing in to a cloth before beaconing Edward closer with one hand.

The teenager hesitated then stepped forward.

"Show me the mark Edward." His teacher demanded and Edward obediently slipped out of his distinctive red coat, folding it and placing it upon the seat situated next the sick bed before unzipping his black top, stripping down to his black undershirt.

Izumi's black eyes were instantly drawn to the metallic gleam of the automail arm and she frowned at the sight before Edward pulled down the neck of his undershirt enough to reveal the thick scar over his breast bone. The sight of that caused more that a frown. Izumi sat forward so fast that Edward nearly dodged backward. But instead of a blow, she instead placed her hand over the mark, measuring the length of the wound that had killed Edward. He flinched at the touch, always slightly standoffish when it came to physical contact with anyone save his brother.

"Alphonse has the transmutation circle that I drew the day…that day on the armour tattooed on his chest." He said, looking away from his teacher and trying to ignore the warmth that was flooding in to his cheeks. As if noticing his embarrassment Izumi removed her hand and sat back, suppressing a round of coughing triggered by the change in her position.

"Did it go right through?" She asked, ignoring temporarily Edward's attempt to change the subject of discussion away from the events leading up to his death. At Edward's reluctant nod, Izumi hissed then turned a glare on her student, suddenly angry at the realisation that she had come so close to…that she had lost him and that it was only due to alchemy that her apprentice still lived. "How did he…Wrath said you had Envy under you, that you were winning and then you hesitated. Why?"

Edward snorted at the mention of Wrath's account of what had happened. No doubt the story from him had been a bit limited. The Sin had after all been dealing with serious blood loss and considerable pain.

"Why? Because he showed me his real face." Edward answered, turning away slightly so that the black gaze was no longer focused quite so strongly on his face. "Because he showed me the reason he envied and hated me. He had died of mercury poisoning four hundred years ago, William Elric, my considerable older half brother. And I hesitated because…because…"

"Because he was family and had been abandoned by your father too?" Izumi asked softly, reaching out to offer some physical support only for Edward to stand suddenly and move away again, slamming backward in to the wall furthest from the bed, his folded arms a shield between him and his teacher, who knew him in some ways better than his brother.

"But obviously Envy didn't feel the same reluctance to harm one of his family and he stabbed me right though the heart. Poetic don't you think. Because I was so stupid I put Al and everyone – everyone else in the world at risk."

"Edward, it is not any single person's job to save the world, no matter what stories and comics might tell you." Izumi commented, watching the child that she had helped to raise and yet who had grown up in so many ways all alone against the world. Edward gave a bitter laugh.

"Ah, but I am Edward Elric, the Full Metal Alchemist, the State alchemist for the People. If I don't do it, who will? Who?!" Edward shouted; the pain in his voice so prominent that Izumi had to fight the impulse to stand, despite her weakened condition, and go to him. He was still in so many ways a child still, lost in the role and expectations of not only an adult but of a national hero. "I couldn't even fix my own mistake and give Al his body back."

"You gave your arm."

"I had too. Hoinheim's soul was so decayed that the Gate wouldn't accept the exchange. But it had taken my arm in exchange in the past and it took it again. I was willing to give more but Hoimheim had to interrupt." Edward laughed suddenly and turned back to her, his golden eyes glistening. "I even had to kill the other me in the world beyond just to get back here, just to come home. I used his energy and… and I don't even know where Dante is. I couldn't even…"

"There is no shame in not being able to kill Edward. Life, as you know better than any, is something that is easily lost and almost impossible to gain." Izumi offered gently, watching as the rough white gloves that hid the blonds mismatched hands from view were used to scrub at the rebellious tear that had made it past his defences.

"Not impossible though. I know the secret now. I know how to bring back a perfect human being. I know what alchemists – even men such as Hoinheim – struggled to discover and failed to do so. Human transmutation, the greatest taboo, the greatest mystery solved." Edward chuckled to himself and stepped forward to drop lightly on to the foot of the bed, his legs suddenly none to stable.

"Edward…"

"You don't need the philosopher's stone at all. That's the coward's way out, except that it doesn't work. The Gate won't accept it. It wants a fair exchange – a mind for a mind, a soul for a soul, a body for a body. But more than that it wants commitment. The only person that can bring back their loved one is someone who willingly gives everything that they are in the knowledge that they will never see the person they resurrect." Edward paused, head bent, eyes downcast and staring at his own lap.

Izumi sat there momentarily stunned for a second, watching the boy in front of her as he pulled the white glove free from his metal hand, watching with seeming fascination as the light moved over the whirring joints as the fingers flexed and bent.

"Complete selflessness." She whispered finally, her own hand dropping to her stomach where so many years ago the Gate had taken her organs in so called 'equivalence'. She had thought she had been willing to give anything to have her still born son alive. But even as she had drawn the circle she had thought of raising the child, of watching him grow. She had not been willing to sacrifice her future with the child in order to give him life and the transmutation had failed.

Generations of alchemists willing to try to defy a taboo had misunderstood the rule that human transmutation required the greatest sacrifice. They believed that it required huge numbers of human lives, stored and amalgamated in a philosophers stone. What, after all, could be a greater sacrifice than hundreds, perhaps even thousands of lives?

But they had been wrong and it took a child desperate first to return his mother to the flesh and then later to restore his brother to work out that the sacrifice had to be personal and complete. One entire existence in exchange for another.

That Edward had been willing to give up everything to return his brother to the flesh did not surprise Izumi.

Then something suddenly occurred to her, a discrepancy.

"Edward, how then did Alphonse bring you back? He had the philosopher's stone, but beyond that only had his soul to give in the bargain. Why would the Gate accept that in fair exchange?"

This time when Edward looked at her, she could see again the knowledge that he had gained from those journeys into and beyond the Gate and the toll that it had taken on him. He looked older, worn and more than slightly worried.

"It didn't. I mean it accepted all that Al offered but it wasn't forced to give me in exchange. It let me go. I remember feeling Al call me and the cord that tied me to the world tugging. But the Gate could have closed, could have trapped me inside but…it let me go." The confusion in his voice was plain and Izumi didn't bother to question the statement. The fact that for whatever reason the Gate had allowed her apprentice to return to the world of the living was a good thing, one not to be too over analysed, at least for the moment.

She watched as Edward pulled back on his jacket and folded his coat over his arm, after carefully replacing his precious glove to hide the metal monstrosity that replaced his flesh.

She watched as he slipped out of the room, his eyes clouded and regret at telling her the last clear on his face. He hesitated on the boundary of the room when she roughly cleared her throat.

"Tell me something Ed." She called, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand after a few more pain racked coughs and noted that although he did not turn he did wait, ready for her question.

"You know I am dying. The raid at Central headquarters and removing the red stones from Wrath was the last straw for me. The doctor said I had less than a week to live but that was months ago." She laughed although the sound had no humour in it. "Tell me Edward…what is it like to die?"

Golden eyes closed and shoulders tensed beneath black leather.

"…like going home."

[Break]

Elsewhere

The strict towering form of General Augustus Gunter stood on a metal framed balcony overlooking the last preparations for the first wave of the invasion of Shambala.

His emotionless black eyes surveyed the two hundred armour clad troops that stood in formation before him, heads tilted upwards to watch him as he issued their last orders. Beyond them, in the centre of the hanger, was a huge alchemic symbol, painted upon the concrete and then covered with red stone. Next to it stood the form of Chairman Erkhart.

Despite the distance between them his keen eyes could clearly see that she was wearing a high collared and long sleeved top, her neck further covered by the addition of a pure white scarf. Most would have pegged it as a simple fashion accessory but he knew better. Dante may have swapped bodies again using the last of her own Philosophers stone upon arriving on this backward world, but already her stolen body was rotting away, faster than ever before.

He had to fight a smirk at that thought. Soon, so very soon, he would be the last of his family remaining. Hoinhiem might have escaped his clutches by returning to Amestris but nothing would keep him from his final vengeance on the man that had spawned him then abandoned him.

He would hunt him down and then finally do away with Trisha's brats and then…then he would watch as Dante rotted away before finally tearing apart both worlds – with his bare hands if necessary. Although he had to concede that this mirror world was making a good attempt at destroying itself without his input.

He completed his speech on the Pride of Germany and on the expansion of the Arian empire, and straightened his own stolen form. Behind the troops, without ceremony, Chairman Erkhart clapped her hands and placed both palms down calmly on the alchemic symbol.

The hanger seemed to tremble as blue light engulf the red stone, devouring the offering of several thousand lives in a flash. And in equivalence the huge towering form of the Gate appeared, its carvings heavily shadowed.

General Augustus Gunter fought back a shudder at the sight. Only a few months before he had forced that eyed door open with his own hands and flung himself in to the arms of the darkness beyond in the hopes of completing his vengeance on his father. He had come close to losing himself to the creatures that dwelt within.

He knew, perhaps better than his 'Master' that the troops who even now had turned toward the portal would be lucky to emerge alive on the other side and would certainly not do so unchanged.

His hand snapped out in front of his, palm out and raised slightly above his own head level. In his stolen voice he barked a final instruction.

"Go forth my soldiers and be victorious. Hail Hitler."

Two hundred soldiers, their armour shining under the harsh overhead and from the unnatural glow of the gate mirrored his movement and the cry of "Hail Hitler" was nearly deafening. As one the unit turned, reformed in to a line - 4 men abreast and marched in to the black maw of the ever hungry Gate.

As the last man stepped through the image of the Gate shuddered and began to fade as the fuel of the red stones was finally consumed. On the ground below Erkhart nodded to him and turned away from the scorched concrete that the alchemic circle had burned its self in to. Two members of the Thule society followed, no doubt already plaguing her with demands about what had happened to their troops.

He already knew that this test had not been about the first wave of an invasion. It had been about testing to see whether the Gate could be summoned from this side. It had been successful and in a few days time it would be his turn to step through the portal and return to the world where he had been born and had already died once.

He couldn't wait…

[Break]

Edward sat alone, facing the darkness that had descended on the outside world, the porch that he sat upon only illuminated faintly by the single fluttering candle that Al had left at his side.

His younger brother had sat in silence with him a while, not quite questioning why Edward had retreated there nor what was on his mind. Instead his presence had been a reminder that if Ed needed to talk he was there to listen but Edward had found himself unable to put words to the thoughts that ravaged his mind.

Still Al had not questioned him, recognising by the expression of flinty determination burning in golden eyes that his older brother was thinking and would not welcome an interruption. They had sat in silent contemplation for a while, Edward's mind fighting through memories and knowledge while Alphonse instead studied his brother, his grey eyes sad. Al had left him to his vigil about three hours ago, brushing his flesh shoulder in unspoken support before heading inside to bed.

No bright stars shone in the black night sky that Edward had surveyed since the sun had dipped below the horizon some hours ago. Perhaps they dared not brave the glare that the Full Metal Alchemist aimed at the world around him, as though the world itself were at fault for placing him back in to the position of again watching a loved one die.

He hated it. He could feel the alchemic energy of his body sparking at his finger tips. Power the likes of which he has not experienced since that day in Lab 5, when the liquefied red stone, the sum of hundreds of lives, had drenched him.

He had the power to rearrange the very landscape, to tear the surface of Amestris asunder and to draw water from the purest, deepest cavern but despite all that energy, all that ability he still could do no more that sit helpless as his Sensei lay suffering, lay dieing.

If only he could clap his hands and re-grow the organs that the Gate had stolen so long ago from his Sensei. But he knew the cost of that action. Knew that the law of equivalence would require material from his own body, in a reaction that would likely kill them both. For good reason medicine and science were kept as two distinct and more importantly separate sciences.

He stood suddenly, turning to watch the candle splutter in the wind caused by his movement. Watched the small flame flicker in a desperate attempt to remain alight, to remain burning, to continue in its ongoing consumption of both air and wax before it died. A faint wisp of smoke rose in silent tribute.

How very reminiscent of life.

Ed turned away and stepped across the dark garden, needing to find some form of release to his frustrations.

Without even a clap his right arm glowed, the heavy titanium plate shifting and elongating, forming into the familiar half sword sprouting from his wrist that over the past 3 years had become his signature weapon.

On his arrival Edward had noticed that the brambles at the far end of the otherwise immaculate garden were overgrowing their mark and infringing in to the impressive white roses that Sensei took no small amount of pride in nurturing.

Uncaring that it was well past midnight Edward directed the fury that he felt against the world down upon the helpless weeds, his metal arm rising and falling in deadly swipes, the razor edge of the blade reeking death upon even the toughest branches. Until all that was left was an ugly naked stump sitting in the black soil, its flesh dripping sap from the attack.

Edward stood back; sweat glistening on his face, panting breaths clouding in the cold air as he surveyed the carnage he had wrought.

Despite her love of the roses Sensei had only ever trimmed back the brambles, kept them at bay rather than destroy them in their entirety. Once, many years ago Edward had asked her why and she had told him that she kept them for balance. That without the ugliness of the brambles one could not fully appreciate the beauty of the roses.

Golden eyes closed in pain at the memory, fighting against the knowledge that whatever his intentions, his rage had not taken the course that he had wanted it too.

He went to turn away, ready to leave the carnage until morning to clear and seek his bed for the night but he hesitated.

There on the grass lay a white rose severed from its place of glory, an innocent victim of his rage.

He carefully crouched and plucked up the rose between flesh fingers, mindful of thorns.

Golden eyes sought and found the stem that had fallen under the dubious mercy of his blade. Without considering his actions he raised the rose back into its rightful place, picturing in his minds eye the alchemic circle that Russell and Spencer used frequently to manipulate the plants they grew. He froze before his metal hand could tap against his flesh hand in a clap that would complete the circle and rejoin the severed flower.

The principle of plant based alchemy was different to that used to mound or stretch say metals or rock. Stretching plants made the material weak as the plant cells were elongated and torn out of shape, making a useless construction that would fall apart at the slightest touch and would kill the original plant. A thing he had found to his cost when at 12 he had tried to construct a plant 'bridge' and had fallen straight through it.

Instead an alchemist had to 'grow' the plant rather than stretch it. It was the reason why few alchemists – even state alchemists - used plant alchemy. One had to focus energy in to the individual cells and get them to reproduce themselves. Mimicking normal growth at a massively accelerated pace.

It was a difficult process made more complicated by the need to get the plant to draw the necessary materials from its own resources and the surrounding area rather than from the alchemist. Without the necessary concentration the procedure could be quite dangerous and was a draining process due to the level of power required, with alchemic energy fuelling reactions normally powered by the sun.

Alarm bells sounded in Edward's head and in a true 'eureka' moment he let his jaw drop open in shock at his own stupidity.

Without even thinking about it he had been about to rejoin the rose to its stem by 're-growing' the cells that had been severed by powering the growth of the cells.

Could the same trick be used on living animal cells? Could it really be that simple?

Rather than trying to construct a whole organ from scratch could it be done instead one cell at a time drawing on the subjects own bodily stores, replicating what nature did every second of every day.

Surely it could not be that easy?

Edward let the grimace that came at the revelation show on his ever mobile features, pain clear in his strange golden eyes. What could he have done with this knowledge, if indeed it was true, a few years ago.

Could he had healed his mother of the cancer hat had stolen her from them? Could he had saved Hughes and made sure Elisa grew up with a father – unlike him?

A well of guilt began to open in his mind and with all of his will Edward smashed it closed.

The past was unchangeable. Besides at the time of his mother death he had been a basic level alchemist – granted an incredible achievement for a 10 year old who was entirely self taught – but no where near the level required to perform the complex calculations or energy transfers required by the plant growth alchemic formula. That had only come later – after the Gate.

The single perfect white rose was placed to one side on the dew dampened grass and without true conscious effort or a clap his metal arm once again reformed into its trade mark blade. Quickly, before he had a chance to reconsider his rash experiment, he drew back his left sleeve and used the razor sharp edge of the blade to slice a neat 3 inch long cut in to the muscle of his forearm.

He hissed in pain as blood welled from the wound, trickling over pale flesh, appearing black in the darkness.

The blade melted and the automail arm returned to the shape that Winry had originally created. With a deep breath Edward pictured the alchemic circle that Russell and his brother used in their restoration work in the old mining towns out west. Closed eyes flickered as countless calculations were performed and lines over which energy would flow were altered in the imagioned image until they met his satisfaction. Work that would take another alchemist weeks, maybe even years was completed in seconds by the boy that had been called a prodigy most of his life.

A sharp clap rang out before the Full Metal Alchemist could be halted by the thought of the risks inherent in what he was attempting.

White light washed over the garden, almost blinding in its intensity. When it faded Edward could only stare in wonder down at his forearm, blood still marring the pale flesh, clumping the pale blond hairs. Blood that seemed to have welled from nothing; for there was no sign of the self inflicted injury.

He stared in awe for almost half a minute before the equivalence of his actions caught up with him and sent him to his knees. Dizzy, and suddenly so hungry that he thought his stomach might try to digest itself Edward let his forehead rest on the wet grass.

He had compacted healing that would normally take a few weeks in to a few seconds, which had drained his body of both fuel and water and reminded him firmly that he had already missed several meals. Otherwise he seemed fine.

A self satisfied smirk crept up onto his lips as he bent to collect the rose for a second time.

Healing a cut was quite a different concept to re-growing internal organs but the now proven concept should remain the same so long as there were cells in Sensei's body that still 'remembered' that they were once part of organs that had been stolen from her by the Gate.

He re-entered the sleeping house, stopping only to grab a tall glass of water and one of Sig's many protein bars. He downed both in short order before quietly climbing the stairs, stepping over the 3rd and 10th steps with the grace of long experience of sneaking out of this house. He reached the master bedroom where Sensei had been installed to rest, moving past the former guest room where Wrath slept upon a single bed while the massive form of Sig snored away on a mattress on the floor beside his 'son'.

The door to the master bedroom was opened and his narrow form squeezed in to the room before the door was firmly closed and locked with a burst if alchemic power.

Several minutes passed in unremarkable silence and then white light flooded from the cracks around the wooden door, spilling out in to the dark hall.

[Break]

Nothing had stirred in this place since the two brothers has ascended the steps to the surface nearly three months ago.

Air, heavy with decay and dust, stirred through the empty streets, stirring curtains that had not felt the caress of the wind in centuries. The ancient fabric disintegrated at the disturbance, falling to pieces at the sudden change to the conditions that had preserved them for so long.

This was a place of death.

An entire City; once a shining spark of civilisation in an otherwise dull world, now just another victim to man's quest for ultimate power. In a single night its entire population had been destroyed, leaving the buildings standing in silent tribute to the loss of life. An empty shell still ringing with the echoes of those that had once lived here, believing themselves safe.

Men, women, children, babies, even pets – living in ignorance.

Had some of them turned? Had some of them watched in awe as that wave of red alchemic light swept through the streets, consuming every life it encountered as fuel for the philosophers stone?

A hidden City, a tomb of memories, a monument to a grievous sin committed over four centuries ago. A City below a City, with thousands living above, ignorant of the evils that had occurred below, in a place that had been swallowed by the very earth upon which they now stood.

The wind stirred where no wind had reached in centuries.

In the stone court yard at the very centre of the city, at the centre of the alchemic pattern carved deep into the City streets, lightning crackled between street lamps.

Four hundred years before a small group of men and women, wearing cowls like the executioners they were, had stood in this very place and had wiped out an entire population. They had consumed ten thousand people in a single alchemic reaction.

Now, again the air was torn asunder and the huge evil visage of the Gate formed in the mist. Its hideous staring eye scanned the surroundings before the mighty golden doors cracked open and the darkness within spilled into Amestris from the world beyond.

[Break]

Edward whimpered as a hand shook his flesh shoulder in a gentle yet persistent manner, bespeaking that the shaker was a person who was going to keep shaking him patiently until he awoke even if it took all day.

He knew that person well and knew that Alphonse had never given up in his alarm clock duties, even resorting on occasion to the use of alchemically made ice cubes to motivate his older brother into waking.

Golden eyes slid reluctantly open only to slam shut again as the sun light streamed in from the crack in the bedroom curtains. This time he groaned in complaint at the harsh light, raising his metal arm in a pitiful attempt at blocking out the light. Even with his eyes closed the autumn sun was blindingly bright, causing multicoloured spots to flash on the inside of his eye lids.

His head was pounding and his body felt as though at least two full tank divisions had driven over him followed by the Amestris state military marching band. In fact he was quite certain one of the percussion segments had mistaken his head for a drum from the beat that was hammering away in his skull.

A shadow fell across his face as something moved between him and the sadistic sun. The relief, however small was immediate and his automail arm relaxed back onto the sheets even as the mattress dipped as someone sat down at his side.

Edward released a brief mumble of thanks for the shielding and the golden eyes made a second bid to open, succeeding on this occasion, meeting a concerned gaze of grey.

"Brother?"

"Al," Edward managed to croak out past a parched throat in answer. With no further cue required Alphonse retrieved a glass of water from the bedside table and helped his older brother support it while he took a few sips.

The older boy grimaced slightly as the liquid that soothed his dry throat hit his empty stomach like a tonne of bricks. The abused organ informed him with a rolling nausea that although he was starving it planned to forcibly reject any food in a form of punishment.

"Better?" Al asked softly, his voice carefully lowered to a murmur as he replaced the now half empty glass on the bed side table. The younger boy didn't need to be told that Edward had a splitting headache, it was obvious by the pinch of his brother brow.

"No. Kindly tell the marching band to get lost or at least play quieter." Edward mumbled back as he struggled in to a more upright position against the head board.

"You can't be that bad if you making jokes." Alphonse offered, his lips turning up in to a brief smile that didn't reach his eyes, which seemed to be a more stormy grey today in the darkened room.

"Can't be that bad? Are you kidding?" The Full Metal Alchemist protested in a whisper, his flesh hand rising to massage the bridge of his nose as another wave of dizziness washed over him in protest to his change of position. One of the percussion segments had located a base drum and was using it without mercy. "This is the worst hangover humanity has ever faced and you say 'it can't be that bad'. I haven't even had the dubious pleasure of getting drunk first."

Alphonse shook his head at his brothers over exaggeration. It had always amazed him how Edward would insist he was fine no matter that he had broken ribs and multiple lacerations yet a migraine could lay him low for hours. He could sympathise though, for although he did not use alchemy regularly and had certainly not performed marathon sessions like his brother he well knew the feeling left after from over use of alchemic energy.

Even with circles to help controlling, manipulating and directing the energy required for an alchemic reaction required massive levels of concentration to insure that nothing went wrong. This level of concentration, if maintained over long periods of time left in their wake crippling migraines that severed to stop the alchemist in question over extending their abilities. Many times over the years Ed had fallen pray to such headaches as he over worked himself on his various missions.

"You're still under age." Alphonse commented lightly, leaning forward to again pass the glass of water to Edward and this time also deliver to him the two pain pills he had retrieved from Ed's suitcase before he had attempted to awaken him. The pills had become a constant presence in their luggage since their very first mission. Changing coal to gold was not an easy process even if it was temporary. "Could you eat?"

Edward went pale in response at the merest mention of food, beginning to shake his head in denial before rethinking and instead speaking aloud.

"No."

"How about getting up?"

Edward huffed, glaring at the larger form perched beside him as though his younger brother had just asked him to do the impossible.

"Can't you just leave me to suffer in agony?"

Alphonse turned to fully face his brother, one bronze eye brow raised in sardonic humour.

"Brother, sometimes I wonder if you wouldn't be better suited to the theatre than the military. You have melodrama down to perfection." He sighed; ignoring his brothers retorting growl, he stood and strode over to the bedroom window. With a flourish he pulled the curtains open wide, allowing light to flood the small room. "You know as well as I that your migraines are best dealt with by getting up, eating and moving around. Hiding under the covers all day will really not help."

"How's Sensei?"

The sudden change of subject seemed to throw Alphonse, who turned back from the window and was surprised to see that his brother was still sitting upright in bed, wincing slightly in the sunlight. He had expected the older boy to duck beneath the sheets, seeking their sanctuary as he did normally.

The golden eyed gaze was serious and it was obvious that he was concerned and fully focused despite the after effects ravaging him from the over use of his alchemy.

Alphonse paused before answering, his brow drawing down in to a frown as he surveyed his brother, the anger that had been building upon finding his brother collapsed in their Sensei's room flashing in his eyes.

"The doctor is with her now." He answered shortly, his voice tense as he struggled to control the emotions that boiled within him, his eyes intense as he met his brother's gaze.

"Does she feel any better?" Edward asked.

The older boy flinched suddenly as Al all but ran across the room, his right fist slamming hard on the pillow an inch from Edward's shoulder, the blow strong enough that it would have cracked bone if it had actually struck him.

Edward swallowed as his younger yet considerably bigger brother loomed over him, one knee up on the bed, the thrown fist still on the pillow, supporting him as he leaned over the smaller blond. A storm of absolute anger the likes of which Edward had never seen before swirled in the grey eyes and Al's lips were pulled up in to a furious snarl as he stared down at him.

"How dare you speak of it so casually?" The normally calm and patient teen growled; his face mere inches from Edward's, his eyes locked on the startled golden eyes below him. "You risk your life again and again with no thought to anyone but yourself. Damn you Edward. Do you… have any…any idea what it does to me when you run head long into a danger without even telling me or letting me help? Do you know how much it terrifies me to find you collapsed like that, never knowing what you might have lost this time?"

"Al I…."

"Shut up!" Edward jerked back from the harsh words snapped by his fuming brother, swallowing what ever words he had been about to offer. "We're all we've got Edward. I will not lose that. Not after everything that we have faced." Alphonse paused, some of the rage receding from his face. "God damn it Edward, how many times must I watch at you bedside and nurse you back from injuries caused by your inability to just… _think…_before you act."

Alphonse stood just as suddenly as he approached and turned from his brother's frozen form before walking back towards the window, taking up position beside it and staring out in to the world beyond. His breathing came fast, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to gain control of the emotions that raged inside of him.

He barely heard the sheets swept to one side and his brothers near silent gait as the smaller boy cautiously approached him. A single flesh hand timidly touched against the middle of his back and he flinched slightly, not in outright rejection of the touch but more out of shock that his brother had dared to confront him even after his outburst.

"I'm okay Al." Edward whispered, leaving his hand in place on his brother back for a few seconds to gage his reaction before stepping slightly closer and slipping his flesh arm around Alphonse's chest, letting the hand come to a rest over the tattoo that stained Al's breast. Only the thin navy t-shirt separated the mark from the one who had originally drawn it all those years ago, in his own blood.

Alphonse sighed and let his own hand rise and grip over his brothers, relaxing backward into the half hug, knowing that Edward would most likely not use his automail arm to complete the movement, especially not whilst wearing only a vest and boxers, wary of harming his brother with the powerful metal limb.

"I want so very much to fight you now Edward. But I don't dare because I know I'd hurt you." Alphonse muttered, clasping Edward's single flesh hand tightly to prevent the smaller teen from blithely offering the sparring session anyway if it would help Al. "I don't want to see you hurt." Alphonse paused again, drawing in a deep breath. "Can you imagine what went through my mind when I went in to Sensei's room and found you collapsed with some strange alchemic circle I didn't recognise burnt in to the walls, the floor, the damned ceiling?"

"I'm okay, I really am." Edward offered again. "And Sensei will be too."

Alphonse stiffened, forcing his eyes closed as he gathered himself for the inevitable question that had been plaguing his mind for the past few hours since finding Edward collapsed.

"Tell me you didn't use Human Transmutation Edward? Tell me that after everything we have been through, you didn't use it?"

Silence rang between the two of them in answer and Alphonse jerked as though hit, pulling from his brother's partial embrace, turning to face the Full Metal Alchemist whose eyes were lowered away from the burning grey stare. The silence was the only answer he would get

Edward was tensed, that much Al could tell in an instant, his left foot back, his knees bent, ready to take a punch. To take the punch that Al so desperately wanted to throw. And perhaps if he was more like his brother the twitching in his right hand would have been yielded to and he would let himself physically rage at his erring sibling rather than just verbally.

But he had better control than that. Control over his temper that Edward had never managed to learn, not in all the missions or trails they had faced together.

Edward winced at the glare directed at him. He had never in all his life seen Alphonse so angry at anyone before. His gentle patient little brother, his exact opposite.

But he could not lie to Al, no matter what threats might be made, no matter how seeing that look in his brothers steel grey eyes made his heart tighten with fear that not even Envy could inspire.

The Full Metal Alchemist, hero of the people, had never felt such fear as he experience now. And it was fear not just that Alphonse might actually attack him in earnest but of what that would do to them. And what it might lead to.

Edward had never won a physical fight with Alphonse and he knew, better than perhaps anyone else that he would not win if they fought now, not without resorting to alchemy.

The silence and tension hung between them for a good minute as Edward braced himself for what was to come. Instead of attacking though Alphonse took several deep calming breaths, his eyes locked on the slight tremble that ran through Edward's body. The twitching in his right hand stilled and his body relaxed as his mind over rode the desires of his body to lash out. He raised his right hand instead to rub at the bright of his nose, as though warding of his own headache.

"Damn it Ed." He growled, looking away, pain tightening at his face.

"Al, I'm…"

"No. Don't say you're sorry when you don't mean it. Just don't. I know you're not. I know you'd do exactly the same thing again, without considering the risk, the costs. What was it Tucker said … 'You do it just to prove you can'."

"I am NOT like him!"

Al almost smiled at the vehement rejection resulting from the comparison. He knew that Edward was not truly like Tucker. Lab 5 had proved that there were lines that the blond state alchemist would not cross and in all their missions, Edward had never outright killed, even when his own life was in danger. The only lives he had taken had been those of Greed and Sloth. But the comparison had to be made just to force Edward to see his actions from the point of view of others.

"Yes. Yes you are! You went in there, to try an untested technique on Sensei without her consent. You could have both been killed in the reaction. You could have killed everyone in this house!" Alphonse snapped back. "You did it to prove that you could!"

"She was dying! I saved her life. And I did test the technique. I just didn't have time to…"

"You did have time Edward. You knew… you knew that Sensei would say no, that Sig would say no, that both of them would decline because it was not worth the risk to you." Alphonse stated, his voice calming as he came to the conclusion, seeing the guilty look in Edward's eyes. He knew his brother too well at times. Knew that the 'hero' in Edward had sent him straight to Sensei with no further thought than to 'save' her.

"There was no risk. I knew what I was doing."

"Just like you knew five years ago Brother? The same thing could have happened again! After everything, can't you understand that human transmutation is taboo for a very good reason?"

Silence again fell between the two and this time it was Alphonse who warred with the urge to get his arms up in preparation for an attack as eyes that blazed like the sun locked on his own and that deadly right arm clenched, the bare metal digits clicking as the touched on the steel palm, forming a tight fist. A deep breath was taken.

"What did you want me to do Al? Leave her to die? Watch as another of the people that I love suffered and died when I was in a position to help her, to save her?" Edward asked softly, his face bitter as he forced the automail arm to relax at his side. "I couldn't do that Al. I just can't. I will never stand by and watch someone die again when I can help, no matter what the risk is. To ask me to do differently is to ask me to become someone else."

"Death is a part of life. One is all and all is one Edward. Do you remember that lesson? You can't save everyone." Alphonse answered, frowning but knowing that he could not argue with his brother's last comment. Edward might be guilty of having a hero complex but he knew he himself was just as guilty. Was using alchemy in the way Ed had on Sensei really that different from him using his body to shield others?

When he thought - truly thought - about it he wondered how many times he had terrified his brother when he had placed his own body in the way of bullets, of shells, of vehicles. Sure he had been trapped in the armour at those times but he still been venerable. Any damage to his blood seal would have destroyed him, beyond even his brother's ability to recover him.

"I can try." Edward said softly and Alphonse found himself turning away again from the pure honesty on his older siblings face. Edward would always try. Would always fight against death and would never yield.

The flesh hand again wrapped around his waist and he felt Edward's forehead come to rest against the place between his shoulder blades as he leaned into Al's body, his warm breath ghosting against Al's shirt.

"For what it is worth, I am sorry. For worrying you again." Edward offered.

Alphonse snorted, resting his hand again over his brothers and traced the human bones and skin of the left hand before reaching back and drawing the automail arm around his chest as well, moving the limb in to position despite Edward's obvious reluctance to touch him with the steel prosthetic.

"You're going to give me an ulcer you know; for all that I am only fourteen." Al muttered in complaint, feeling more than hearing Ed chuckle. "Only you Brother, could come up with a way of healing someone with alchemy – something others have devoted their entire lives too and still not discovered - at one in the morning while massacring the brambles in the back yard."

"What can I say, I am a prodigy." Edward responded easily, mentally sighing with relief as the tension between the two of them dispersed as though it had never been. However he knew that the memory of those raging grey eyes would remain in the wake of their disagreement for a long time yet. "We should go to Central now."

Alphonse frowned at the sudden change of subject as well as the seriousness of Ed's tone and released his grip of his brother's mismatched hands, turning in the embrace to face the smaller teen, puzzled.

"Why, the General didn't give you a deadline to return did he?"

Edward shook his head in answer and pulled away, walking over to the bed where his neatly folded clothes were draped over the foot of the bed, selecting his black leather pants and beginning to pull them on even as Al retrieved a hair band and brush from Ed's battered suitcase.

Edward mentally debated how to go about describing the ominous feeling he had experience while bound in the reaction that had hopefully cured their teacher. How could he put in words that the energy following from the Gate had dripped with a warning of something dark entering his world and laying waste to everything?

"A feeling."

Alphonse just looked at his brother in silence for a second, seeing confusion in the golden eyes, seeing the frown that bespoke of his brother's frustration at not understanding something he believed to be important.

More than a decade and a half of dealing with his brother had taught Al when to disregard Ed's random whims and when to act on them. If things such as a 6th sense existed then he had no doubt that his brother had it, especially in relation to anything linked to alchemy or the Gate.

"Okay, but lets check on Sensei first."

[Break]

"General Mustang!"

Roy Mustang, newly promoted Brigadier General of the Amestris State Military and head of the newly formed State Alchemist Branch of said Military glanced up from the stack of paperwork on his desk.

It seemed to him that no matter where he served or how high ranking he became there was always paperwork to be done that led to him being tied to his desk for the entire day. The only time he seemed to leave his office was to attend dull and mind numbing meetings and perform equally tedious inspections.

Sometimes he thought longingly of the days he had spent as a measly lieutenant upon first joining the military. Back in the days where he had ventured beyond the boundaries of the command post and out in to the real world on honest to god missions. Days where the only paper work he encountered was the mission report he had to submit upon his return from what ever challenge he had been set.

His single remaining black eye took in the flustered image of lieutenant Fuery, still getting used to having the pip on his shoulder instead of the stripes that he had worn for so long. The small man was the only one on his staff that could full appreciate Full Metals feelings of height related frustration, but for all his lack of inches the man was one of the best technicians Roy had ever encountered.

He was however finicky and almost as paperwork obsessed as Hawkeye had been when she had been his secretary. He had little doubt that the young mans panicked state was due a missing signature or an AWOL piece of highly important paper.

"Yes?" The Flame Alchemist drawled, setting down his pen and taking the disruption as a perfect opportunity to rest his aching and over worked hand.

"Sir. We have had an incident at the Church Parameter. The soldiers stationed there called for immediate assistance before their radio signal went dead." Fuery reported between pants, using one hand to re-establish his slipping glasses up on to the bridge of his nose. Mustang nearly jumped out of his seat, his single eye flashing.

"What?! Tell me you immediately dispatched a patrol to the location?" Mustang demanded, pushing his leather chair back out of his way and pulling his blue uniform jacket from the back.

"Yes Sir. One was dispatched by the duty Captain only now we've lost contact with the patrol that was sent. Major Armstrong is forming a second squad as we speak." Fuery answered, shuddering as the black gaze of the military's youngest ever Brigadier General fell on him.

"Why was I not informed immediately?" Mustang growled, pulling on the uniform jacket and buttoning it up with quick and practiced hands, his fingers checking for and finding his new pair of white gloves in the front pocket. The gloves, pristine spark cloth with lovingly drawn alchemic symbols emblazoned on the back were pulled out and slipped on with the ease of long experience. Fuery swallowed at the sight.

"Sir, we were only just informed ourselves. Apparently the duty Captain didn't think it was worthy enough to disturb you with. Major Armstrong sent me to alert you the second he found out."

Mustang nodded; his glare relaxing. His staff knew better than to keep such information from him, it was up to him after all to decide what wasted his time, not up to some measly duty Captain.

"Idiot. When this is over I will want his name Fuery. Where are the others?"

"Kitting up Sir. I placed the whole team on alert on my way here." Fuery reported, feeling the burden of his information relieved from his shoulders now that a higher ranking officer had been informed. The fact that the officer was Brigadier General Mustang – the legendary Flame Alchemist – just made his want to breathe a sigh of relief. Mustang always knew what to do.

"Good man." The General stepped forward from his desk, his gloves in place, his uniform immaculate and a large padded envelope in his hand. He strode forward and thrust the package to his Secretary, smiling slightly as the man fumbled and finally managed to secure it in his grasp. "Ed and Al will be at the train station in just under two hours. If we are still…dealing with this problem, collect them and bring them to me immediately. Give that package to Alphonse. Am I understood?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good. That order over rides all others, no matter who tries to tell you otherwise. If this is what I think it is then we will need Full Metal." The General threw his underling a sardonic smirk at the thought that again the military might of Amestris would be relying on the whim of a vertically challenged teenager.

He strode out of the room, passed Fuery and toward the main office. His longer dark hair and his newly acquired eye patch gave his face an even more terrifying aspect than ever before as he marched in to the main sanctuary used by the staff that he had gathered about him; since beginning his bid to climb the ranks and finally end the stupidity that was rife in what he would always consider to be 'his' military.

Inside his most loyal were already gathered and waiting, bearing helmets and weapons that had been stashed in cupboards and draws for easy access, awaiting this eventual day.

[Break]

Edward almost sighed in relief when he saw the last minor village train station on the outskirts of Central flash past the window of the carriage. Even though the glass was heavily beaded with the rain that had been hammering down out of the darkening evening sky it was still easy to see the out side world change from rolling fields to suburbs.

The next stop in their seven hour journey would be the huge sprawling visage of Central Train Station, a place almost as familiar to him as the Rockbell family home. He could not even begin to think of the number of times that he had sat on its benches awaiting trains that would take him in pursuit of yet another whisper of the ever elusive philosopher's stone.

He sat sideways on one of the long seats in the otherwise crowded carriage, his booted feet resting on the leather covered bench, his legs curled slightly to give Alphonse enough space to sit on the end of the four seater bench.

He could have used his State Alchemist watch to secure a private room in one of the 1st class carriages but for two reasons had not bothered. The first being that riding in privacy would have given Al more chance to lecture him on his so called 'rash' behaviour and the second was that he had no desire to hear Mustangs spiel on the misuse of his military position or his drain on the teams budget yet again.

Much to his own personal relief (and no small amount of satisfaction) Izumi had been presented with a clean bill of health by her much puzzled physician. Edward almost felt sorry for the man.

If the doctor had not been confused enough about treating a woman with several major organs missing yet who managed despite this obvious handicap to survive and live a vigorous life for eight years then he was completely mystified when his patient – finally succumbing due to the lack of said organs – grew them back over night.

No doubt he would write a paper about the miraculous recovery though Edward doubted that the man would ever have it accepted into any worth while medical journal. After all, for some strange reason all of Izumi's past x-rays had spontaneously deconstructed down to their base compounds. Accidentally, of course.

Although tired, drained from the re-growth and (he believed) privately grateful for the reprieve from death; Izumi had proved to be far from quiet in telling him just what she thought of the risks he had taken. Still, his teacher yelling and randomly throwing things at him was such a normal occurrence during their acquaintance he had not been too bothered by it all. Especially not after the shock of Al's anger.

However, having Sig – the man of silent brooding, who seemed to communicate mainly with grunts – suddenly crouch before him when Izumi had paused briefly for air had startled him.

He and Sig had never seen eye to eye and that was not just due to the considerable difference between their heights. Ed had never felt very comfortable around that massive man and had been unable to hide the flinch backwards that he had made at the close proximity.

Hands the size of shovels had landed on his mismatched shoulders and the urge to clap, to form a solid barrier between them had been almost overwhelming. Edward knew that he was a good fighter – agile, quick, beyond all imaginative - but here, trapped and held as he was he knew that the huge man could crush him easily.

Even now, hours later with a good few hundred miles between them, Edward felt the thrill of fear race up his spine at the memory. He knew that the fear must have flashed in his golden eyes for Sig's normally blank face had tightened some what with regret before he had spoken in that deep rumbling voice.

"I understand why you did this Edward. Izumi is like a mother to you both and I understand that you did not want to loose her. I am glad, beyond glad that she lives. And I am thankful. But I am not glad at the risks you took. No parent wishes to see their child die before them, especially because of them."

The massive hands dropped gently from Edward's slim shoulders and Edward had tried – really tried – not to let the feeling of relief at the release be mirrored on his face. But the brown eyes must have noted the sudden relaxation in his body as Sig stood and took a step backwards. It had looked for a second like the huge butcher had been about to say something further, his brown eyes still locked on his own golden gaze but perhaps the man had used up his word quota for the week because he instead grunted softly and returned to his silent place beside Izumi.

At Edward's insistence they had left the Curtis household shortly afterwards, leaving Izumi to rest under the watchful eyes of Wrath and Mason while Sig walked them to the train station and saw them on to the next direct train to Central. He had even left orders with Al to keep him – the OLDER brother – out of trouble. Like he couldn't take care of himself!

Edward released an audible huff at the very thought and then turned to glare at Alphonse who had chuckled softly at his brothers childish behaviour even as he reached over and pushed Ed's legs off the seat, allowing him to slide over and get a better view out of the window.

The train shuddered slightly as the brakes made contact with the wheels and the world that had been flashing by the windows at a good speed began to slow. The green fields and sprawling farms had been left far behind and instead the view had changed to a dull grey and smoky red of storage yards and industrial units. Several train lines began to converge along side and another train, heading out of Central thudded by, its carriages packed with people and its engine billowing smoke from its coal burner.

And suddenly, after 7 hour of constant, unending movement the train pulled to a stop beside one of the twelve platforms hidden below the great vaulted ceiling of Central Station, resplendent with its painted pillars and draped with the blue Amestris flag, bearing the entrapped white dragon.

As much as he sometimes missed the peace and sense of family that he felt upon returning to Resenbool, Ed knew that this bustling metropolis was his true home.

This grey world filled with the triumphs of the age, with its countless library's and its miracles of engineering. Here things were always happening as man kind sought advancement using any and all means.

And here was Central Headquarters, their base of operations over the past few years, their sanctuary – despite its military nature – when the travelling had got too much to bare.

"Glad to be back?" Alphonse asked softly as he stood up and leaned over his brother to easily lift down both their suitcases from the over head rack before Edward could raise a complaint or try to retrieve it himself.

He knew from experience that the rack was out of his brother's reach and that his brother's pride would never allow him to ask for help. Instead he smiled when Ed all but snatched the more battered of the two cases from Al in an effort to prevent the taller boy from carrying it for him.

"Yes." The older teenager replied as he followed the flow of people down the aisle of the carriage and out of the carriage door, his heavy boots ringing on the metal steps before descending down on to the black granite platform. He drew a deep breath of air, inhaling the unique scents of Central – the smell of coal fires, of engines, of the many bakers, restaurants and people. "Yes I am glad to be back."

"Do you think the Brigadier General will send a car to collect us? We did let him know we were on our way and he always has in the past." Alphonse murmured, an uneasy feeling running through him as his grey eyes scanned the surrounding platforms, all of which stood empty. I was early evening, but normally Central Station was always abuzz with people and trains coming and going, even in the early hours.

He glanced at Edward and saw a frown drawing at his brother's brows as he too scanned the station as the followed their fellow passengers towards the main exit. The ticket checking counters on the exit were all devoid of their inspectors and the gates all stood open. At the front of the crowd of passengers panicky whispers started up and a few startled gasps were taken before the flow of people sped up.

The crowd before them seemed to thin suddenly and both brother's were able to see the cause of the shock. Around the entrance of the station sandbags had been piled up, creating two manned machine gun nests which sat to each side of the huge oak doors that lead out on to the main street. The heavy duty howitzers swung continuously in a slow arch, covering the left and right approaches to the station even as additional soldiers continued to lug further sandbags in to position from the back of an army truck parked nearby.

Several other soldiers, clad in the neat blue of Amestris military ushered the rest of the passengers off to the left, toward one of the underground bomb shelters located nearby to the station.

"What the…?" Edward whispered in shock as one of the unknown privates frowned and started to march toward were he and Alphonse stood half frozen in the oak door way.

"Keep it moving there kids. Just follow on behind…"

"Major Elric!"

The Private stopped mid step at the sound of the yell even as by instinct Edward's gaze flashed to the person that had called his name. His golden eyes looked across the deserted street – a street that should have been packed with late evening shoppers and people making their way home after a long day at work – spotting the small form of Lieutenant Kain Fuery standing beside a sleek black car.

"Major Elric Sir, Alphonse. Brigadier General Mustang sent me to fetch you. You are needed immediately." Fuery called, his voice edged with concern even as he pushed his slipping glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. The private stepped aside from Edward's path, snapping a neat salute having recognised the legendary Full Metal Alchemist a few seconds too late to prevent his initial blunder.

He was ignored as the two Elric brother's exchanged a look of concern before both breaking in to a jog toward the black haired lieutenant.

"Kain, what's going on?" Al asked only to have a small bulky package pushed in to his hands, his suitcase and Ed's snatched away before they could blink and deposited in to the truck of the car.

"I'm not sure of the exact details but about three hours ago there was an attack on the guards watching the Church and then…well…all hell seemed to break lose. Get in please. We need to get moving." Kain requested, ushering the two in to the rear seats of the car before all but running back to the driver's door and hopping in to the vehicle himself. The engine rumbled to life and Kain immediately pulled off.

It was not lost on Edward that the front passenger seat contained a regular army issue helmet; a pack with a bulging ammunition belt and in the foot well, leaning up against the door was a rifle – complete with attached bayonet. He had never seen Fuery do anything more military than occasionally salute. He was a skilled mechanic, able to fix any faulty equipment but the picture of him as a real soldier was almost ludicrous.

"General Mustang went to assist with the rest of our team. I was told to collect you both and take you too him as fast as possible. Beyond that I only know that the Northern half of Central, above the river has been evacuated and that defences have been set up on the bridges." Fuery paused in his briefing as he manoeuvred around a bend at speed – having obviously taken Mustangs command to heart – skidding sideways when around the corner he found a battered looking tank trundling down the middle of the shopping district, heading for the river at a pace that suggested that the damage was not just cosmetic.

"We also received some radio messages from the guards before they were cut off. They were yelling something about suits of armour that wouldn't fall no matter how many times they were shot. That's all I know." Fuery concluded, his foot heavy on the accelerator as he guided the car through the deserted streets, swinging a wide left passed the front of Central Headquarters' and onwards toward the river.

Headquarters' main gates sat closed and bared, two tanks in better condition than the last Ed had seen sitting out side while soldiers ran about inside, setting out defensive lines with the ever favourite army sand bags. Over the sound of the car's engine he could make out the persistent whine of Central's emergency sirens.

The invasion alarm was sounding for the first time in over forty years at the very heart of Amestris.

Beside him, Alphonse had opened the package that had been thrust in to his hands and Edward's heart nearly stopped when he saw the gleaming silver of a brand new State Alchemist watch sitting in his younger brother's lap. Alphonse, who was scanning a piece of heavily decorated parchment in his hands, glanced up, having noted Edward's sudden and intense scrutiny.

Regret shadowed Edward's face as he stared at the watch, identical in nearly every way to the one that sat in his own pocket, a constant unending weight that he had accepted as his burden at the tender age of 12. Now here, in amongst this new chaos, his brother who was just on the borders of being 15 had been likewise burdened, because of him.

"Al, why did you…I didn't want…"

"Hush brother. I was my decision. I spoke to General Mustang before he left Resenbool and he immediately accepted my application. This way, I will be with you in everything and will be able to face what you face."

Edward's shaking left flesh hand went to his own forehead, covering his eyes in an attempt to hide the pain from his brother's view. He had known Al would follow him in his return to Central, in his return to the military and all that it had to offer that Resenbool did not.

He had known that it would be impossible for him to ask Alphonse to stay behind but somehow Edward had never considered that Al would take the next logical step and join the military too.

"I…Al, I didn't want you to ever become a dog of the military." Edward whispered, jumping slightly when Al's hand took hold of his own, pulling it gently away from his face and allowing grey to meet gold.

"I didn't sign up to be a dog Brother. Or a weapon." Alphonse answered softly, smiling. "You see there was this great Alchemist, a prodigy really, who refused to obey his orders and who faced down the might of the Military on the behalf of the People. He managed to restore faith in the State Alchemists and for that he became revered as the Alchemist for the People."

"Al…"

"That's why I joined Brother. To become an Alchemist for the People, to be a keeper of the peace and to help people who need help and I know that with people like Mustang in charge, that's what I will be able to do."

Edward was silent, letting the noise of the car engine, the whine of the sirens and the occasional squeal of tyres roll over him as he considered his younger Brother's words. He swallowed several times, fighting for control over the emotions boiling inside of him and finally won.

"What…what name did Mustang give you? If it's something stupid I swear I'll…"

"I am the Soul Armoured Alchemist." Alphonse interrupted with a dashing grin, provoking a startled laugh from the smaller blond. "I'm sure he thought it was appropriate given my history."

With a suddenness that nearly sent the two boys forward in their seats the car screeched to stop beside a police station located near to the southern bank of Central's winding river, its glowing blue lights that marked the building as a place of safety the only light on the dark street.

"We're here. The General is inside."

[Break]

Elsewhere…

A pale, near pasty looking man with oiled black hair combed over to one side in a vain but never the less unsuccessful attempt to hide his ever growing bald spot stepped from the black non descript car.

In one bony hand he held a tan case, its contents bulging the leather sides of the bag and its weight made obvious by the way the special operative carrying it was stooping to one side. A metal chain ran from the bag to a silver hand cuff secured around the man's thin wrist, nearly hidden under the heavily starched dull grey suit jacket.

To think that it was men like this, grey clad little thin balding men who really ran Germany, who passed papers and signed warrants and kept the continuous flow of 'undesirables' coming in to the concentration camps, fuelling the ever burning furnaces that doted the landscape of the country. These men, who were everything that the perfect Arian race should despise, were the ones that had been placed in charge of the process of purification. How very…human.

General Augustus Gunter – or at least the creature wearing his face – watched from his office window as the so called Special Operative scanned his surroundings, his beetle black eyes taking in the horrors of the camp from behind the safety of his neat little glasses. There were creatures capable of more emotion, more mercy and more humanity than this man dwelling in the very depths of the Gate.

The tiny man nodded to himself in satisfaction as he watched a Nazi Soldier bludgeon a downed elderly Gypsy with the butt of his rifle as another party of the so called 'undesirables' were marched from one of the hideously over crowded and poorly built cabins across the compound and toward the metal hanger that lingered in the darkness beyond the trees there.

With a curious gait, half limp and half attempted stride, the Operative moved across the compound himself, his two body guards marching beside him, heading straight for the main block and for the General's own office.

The items that had been delaying their final plans were no doubt in that tan suitcase, stupidly handcuffed to the weak wrist of the paper pusher.

General Gunter drew back from the window, silently drew back his desk chair and sat down, facing the door to his office, waiting.

He was not kept waiting long. His secretary, a young Corporal knocked once on his office door before opening it cautiously.

"General, Special Operative Herr Scroder is here to see you."

The General inclined his head and the Corporal stood to one side, holding the door open long enough for the grey clad insect of a man to step in to the office before firmly closing the door in his wake.

"G-General Gunter. A pleasure." Scroder offered, using his one free hand to smooth his oiled flat hair, his beady eyes scanning the room and again offering a slight incline of the head in recognition of the picture of the Fuhrer which was the only decoration in the otherwise completely plain and simple office. He set the heavy bag down on the chair positioned on the opposite side of the desk and pulled out a neatly folded document.

"Special Operative Scroder. I assume that your presence here means that my request and the request of Chairman Erkhart is to be honoured." The General asked; his own blue eyes fixed on the swollen bag in anticipation. If Dante's predictions were correct that bag contained the tools necessary for a stable gateway to be opened between the worlds and would provide them both with a pathway home.

"Y-yes, the request has been granted. It is my duty to present you with the twelve spear heads, forged from the great spear of Longinous." The document was opened, studied and then passed across the desk. A delivery receipt – requiring a signature to confirm that the items had been received. The being wearing Gunter's face nearly laughed.

A pen was retrieved and the correct line was endorsed with a signature. A small key was retrieved from a hidden pocket inside the boring grey suit and the hand cuff was released. Without another word Special Operative Scroder performed a perfect salute, stuttered over the 'Hail Hitler' before turning and limping out of the office, his duty done.

Gunter waited until the plain unremarkable black car turned, struggled briefly in the muddy compound and then was driving toward the main gates before he stood and opened the bag. Gingerly he reached in to the dark depth and pulled out one of the items, wrapped neatly in red silk.

Cautiously, the silk was drawn away revealing the mirror bright spear head, its edges razor sharp, forged by the greatest metal workers that Germany had to offer. Even with the silk acting as a buffer he could feel the draw of the metal that had not faded despite the original spear being shattered, melted down and re formed.

A shard of the Gate sat in his hand, ready to be used to tear the two worlds asunder.

He smiled and re wrapped the spear head before returning it to the bag. Chairman Erkhart would want to be informed immediately.

[Break]

To say that it was crowded in the front office of the Police Station was a hideous understatement. The small station covered and protected a series of riverside docks and small storage units.

Its tiny front office was rarely visited and its vacant cells hadn't seen a prisoner in weeks. It was more of an outpost than a real station and hardly appropriate for the use Mustang was currently adopting it for.

Edward briefly wondered whether the displaced Constables that normally occupied this space were lost somewhere within the sea of tightly packed in blue uniforms or if Mustang had merely ordered them to abandon their coffee and donuts and get out.

No, that he supposed was unfair. Despite his own personal bad experience with Police during the whole 'psiren' incident he could hardly dismiss all Police on the incompetence of a few. Peace had to be kept in the bunkers and Edward didn't envy the Constables the job of trying to maintain calm in tightly packed conditions with panic and anger spreading like wildfire.

Even had he not been a State Alchemist Edward would have rather taken his chances with the invaders than descended in to the press of the shelters.

Not that this room was much better or less dangerous, what with the slung rifles already bearing lethal looking bayonets swinging this way and that as the crowd of soldiers milled around in the main entrance area.

Fuery had tried to be polite about getting through the tightly packed entrance to the clearer front office beyond, stuttering a few "excuse me's" before even his legendary patience was exhausted. He started to simply try to push through the mass of privates who were awaiting a decision from their commanders but the wall of bayonets made the effort difficult and rather dangerous too.

Edward gave Fuery a full minute of crowd wrestling before sighing. He scanned the crowd and unable to recognise any familiar faces that would allow them through he instead tossed a grin to Alphonse, winking confidently.

In amongst the milling, chatting group a sharp clap rang out as metal hit flesh. The soldiers, every one of them based at Central, were all too familiar with that particular sound and a panicked tense silence fell as the crowd barring the way turned as one toward the origin of the clap. In excess of thirty pairs of eyes landed on the small form of the Full Metal Alchemist, who smiled confidently back at them all.

"You wanna clear a path guys or do I have to do it myself?"

The question was asked softly but ever member heard it, their eyes falling from the golden stare to take in the sight of pulsing blue light sparking around and between the white gloves, as they slowly separated and tuned palm down, ready to be slapped to the tiled floor at anytime.

Like the parting of the red sea, a path appeared in the sea of blue directly before Edward and widened as the soldiers all quickly found other places to be, many darting out of the main doors content to stand in the rain rather than risk being transmuted into something by the temperamental blond.

Mustang was standing in the midst of his team, with the high public counter acting as a barricade between the commanders gathered with him and the formerly milling infantry soldiers. Major Armstrong stood at the Brigadier Generals side, over looking a table that had been dragged in to the centre of the room. Two other Majors and a Captain with his arm in a sling were gathered at the desk too, where a map of Central had been spread out.

It was to say the least a motley commanders meeting from Edwards view point and was not made any better by the presence of two nervous looking state alchemists stood to one side being guarded by a grumpy looking Breda. Both were dressed in lab coats rather than army uniforms and both looked more likely to flee or pass out than be of any actual help.

"Ah, Full Metal. Always have to make an entrance, don't you?" Mustang asked sardonically, lifting his single visible black eye from the battered looking map to look over his tardy junior officer. Edward shrugged as he stepped forward, dismissing the recently summoned alchemic energy from his hands, Alphonse following in his wake while Fuery reported to Hawkeye.

"What can I say? It's a gift." Edward replied with a smirk, coming to a stop before the General and folding his arms across his chest, not even bothering to offer his superior a salute. Mustang merely returned the smirk, more than used to dealing with Ed's disrespectful attitude after years of practice.

"Well I for one am glad to see you both! Our numbers may be depleted but with our bravely defiant troops and now six battle ready State Alchemists these invaders do not stand a chance. We shall teach them the error of their ways I have no doubt!" Major Armstrong boomed, as he stepped up behind the Elric brothers and clapped a shovel sized hand on to each of their shoulders in greeting, nearly sending Edward to the floor in his enthusiasm.

Only a well timed supporting arm from Alphonse spared him the indignity and he found himself silently thankful that the slap had landed on his metal shoulder rather than his flesh one. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that as Armstrong released them and stepped away that the solid armour coating Al's shoulder faded away from sight having protected him likewise from the Strong Arm Alchemist.

"If only we all had your confidence Armstrong." One of the other majors commented and Edward suddenly recognised him as the elderly Commander of Central Stores – Major Trith.

Though in his youth he had held a reputation as a great soldier and battle commander, an unfortunate encounter with a shell had prematurely ended his career on the front lines. His leg replaced with automail, deaf in one ear and left with a hideous burn marring one side of what had once been a handsome face he had been packed off to stores to finish his service in the Amestris infantry overseeing the disruption of new uniforms and equipment.

That had been some ten years ago and the man now only had roughly a year until retirement. He had to be easily bordering on fifty.

Looking closer Edward realised that he recognised the other two officers. The Captain he did not know by name but had encountered him as a capable Lieutenant some years ago whilst in Eastern Command. The other Major was easily recognisable with his rat like features and nervous shaking. Major Cambers oversaw the payroll department and most likely wouldn't know a rifle from a camp bed.

Edward knew him and despised him having fought many verbal battles with him in the past over what items could or could not be claimed as mission expenses. The man was a paper pusher and only retained both his rank and position in the military through his ability at mathematics.

After studying his contemporaries briefly, Edward raised one golden eyebrow and turned a questioning glance toward his commanding officer.

"As I'm sure you have noted Full Metal, we are a bit thin on the ground at the moment. Drachma decided that our current climate of political reorganisation was a perfect opportunity for them to perform a counter attack on our Northern flank. They broke through our lines and all our auxiliary troops have been dispatched to offer support to Northern Command." Mustang explained curtly, frowning in annoyance as though Drachma had decided on its course of action primarily to cause him problems.

Mustang's lip jumped slightly in to a brief grimace before he gestured both Edward and Alphonse forward, to take up places at the table, despite the obvious disapproving look on Major Cambers' face.

The famous spark cloth gloves - all but useless given the current weather conditions - gestured to the northern sector of Central on the ancient looking map that no doubt had been torn down from on of the stations walls.

"We have managed to evacuate the majority of the Northern half of the City either to this side of the river or in to the Northern shelters." He indicated the two core shelters capable of housing in excess of five thousand people each. Both had pencil lines drawn around them and stars marking the main roads that the circle intersected.

"Before we were cut off we installed troops and some of the more battle ready tanks from the repair yard at the Northern shelters to protect them. So far the shelters have not been bothered too greatly by the invading force. Reports suggest that on the most part the enemy soldiers are just wandering through the streets shooting at anything that moves. However some are now amassing near the bridge defences."

The white gloves swept down, indicating the 4 mighty bridges that linked the larger Southern side of the City with the Northern half over the river that meandered through the heart of Central. Pencil lines had been drawn on the Southern side of all four of the bridges, indicating the lines that troops were holding to keep this side of the river safe from the invading force.

"Our first priority was to evacuated and form a defensive parameter. That stage has been successful." Mustang paused, nodding toward both Armstrong and the injured Captain in recognition for their efforts in that initial stage. "Now it falls to us to try to find out exactly who are attacking us and to try to find out how they are accessing Central."

The single black eye darted up from the map and met gold. Both had a very good idea of exactly where the soldiers were coming from and both had a good feeling the question should have been 'what' they were dealing with rather than 'who'. However for some strange reason the Assembly had in no uncertain terms instructed Mustang to keep the reason for the Church guard to himself.

Apparently they believed that if the general public were to become aware that Central was built upon a dead City destroyed by Alchemy in a single terrible night that there might be some degree of panic.

"W-w-w-ould it not be b-b-better to await r-r-re…backup General?" Stuttered Major Cambers, his normally oiled hair dishevelled and his hands shaking as he struggled to find a position in which to stand where he did not risk coming in to contact with the side arm at his waist.

The two lab coated Alchemists nodded almost frantically at the suggestion. Neither of the two looked particularly 'battle ready' in Edward's opinion. In fact the two looked as though they hadn't ventured from their lab for more than a decade and were in serious shock at having been dragged out now, away from their research notes and out in to the real world.

Mustang frowned at the glorified accountant whose tyrannical rule of Central Headquarters' petty cash box was the only reason that the man had made the rank of Major. A shame that the invaders were not trying to claim for frivolous items on mission budgets – maybe then the man would show some back bone.

"No. We can not allow them to get a hold of Northern Central, especially with civilians still trapped over there. Besides our soldiers are reporting that the enemy is armour clad and don't fall even when sprayed with howitzer fire. We must find out exactly what we are facing." Mustang replied curtly.

Major Trith nodded sagely at the words, agreeing with the Flame Alchemist, one hand cocked slightly as it rested on the well polished handle of his side arm as though it were the most natural position in the world for the elderly soldier.

"I quite agree General. Although we do not have the troops to make a 'push' and won't until Eastern Command can get some of it's reserve troops to re-enforce those that we already have. We can not forget that those troops we have currently are either on the injured lists or are primarily office based staff, most of which have not seen combat or even combat training in some years." Major Trith commented, nodding over to some of the troops that sat or stood in the entrance hall to the station, awaiting orders.

Some wore battered uniforms and had various wounds bandaged. Others were gathered around Havoc who was giving them a brief refresher course on how to operate their rifles while wearing a grimace at the fact he was even having to do so.

"It will be an exploratory force only, a small team of my own staff accompanied by myself and both Edward and Alphonse Elric. Our task will be to find out more about the enemy and then report back." Mustang explained briefly, his gaze resting first on Edward and then on Alphonse, nodding in satisfaction when he saw the silver chain running from Al's belt clip into his pocket.

"I will leave Major Armstrong in over all charge in the holding of the bridges. Major Cambers, Major Trith please take one of the Alchemists standing with Brenda back with you to your positions." The single black eye flicked to the two lab coated alchemists who had been opening their mouths to protest. "I am SURE that if they wish to maintain their state certification they will be able to assist you in reinforcing your defences." The two men went even paler, perhaps finally recognising that arguing with the newly promoted Commander of all State Alchemists was a good way of getting fired.

The black eye moved on to the injured Captain.

"Captain Carter, if you still feel fit to command please return to your own troops. Your position should have received one of our spare tanks by now. We will be crossing at your bridge and I have no doubt that Full Metal will be able to employ his creativity to bulk up you defence positions in passing."

The Captain smiled at the comment, throwing a wink at Edward before snapping a sharp if left handed salute to Mustang. He turned on his heel and strode out of the station, pausing only briefly at the entrance to collect the additional troops assigned to him before departing back to his defence position.

The two majors followed in his wake, each collecting their own troops from the group Havoc had been 'tutoring' and also taking possession of an alchemist each before also leaving. Their troops, despite being paper pushers, fell in naturally around the two alchemists. Whether this was to protect them as a precious military resource or to stop the coward lab rats from fleeing was unclear.

In seconds the crowded front office come war room was emptied of all but about a dozen people as even Major Armstrong snapped a neat salute and marched away. There were no additional troops waiting for him, but then the Strong Arm Alchemist could have easily held his own bridge single handily.

Edward briefly pictured the defences that Armstrong might have created for his troops – using the artistic alchemy passed down the Armstrong line for generations - and had to stifle a chuckle at the image his imagination produced.

He turned back to Mustang and allowed his golden gaze to flicker over the remaining troops. It was almost bizarre to see the people that he had work along side with for nearly three years looking so different. Gone were the neatly pressed dress uniforms; replaced with the simpler cut battle uniforms without the additions of gold braid and long coat tails.

Havoc bore a heavy lethal looking machine gun that was balanced against his side and had a chain of bullets slung over one shoulder. It was odd to see him without a cigarette either in his mouth, poised in one hand or tucked behind his ear.

Hawkeye stood to rigid military attention in the heart of the group; a well cared for rifle hanging diagonally across her back and her regulation side arm in its white holster at her hip. She looked at home here, more so than she had ever appeared in the shared office, fighting the ever increasing tides of paperwork.

Fuery, Brenda and Farman stood as casually as they could nearby, checking over their own weapons and equipment, Brenda helping Fuery pull on the bulky radio pack that would be keeping them in constant contact with both the river defences and the isolated shelter defences being manned by the best troops that Mustang had available.

There were several other soldiers visible through the stations back door, seated in the report writing room that's phones were being used constantly as orders spread from this location back to Central HQ where the Assembly were sheltered and where the City Militia would be gathering.

This was Central, the Capital City of Amestris – a country that had been at war with the surrounding nations for generations. Most of the population had been in military service at some point in their lives and could be called on to serve again in just this type of situation.

Mustang turned and surveyed the preparations of his most loyal with a satisfied expression before turning to the two teenage alchemists, setting a package before him on the desk. He unwrapped it, displaying three matt black hand guns, complete with several clips of ammunition. He selected one and loaded it before sliding the weapon in to the normally empty holster at his waist.

"Full Metal." Mustang hesitated and then smiled; his eye lighting on the taller form standing beside the diminutive blond. "Soul Armour. Take a gun each. We don't know how these things will respond to Alchemy and I'd rather you had a distance weapon at your disposal."

Alphonse stepped forward and took one of the guns, loading it carefully and checking the safety was on before he slipped it in to the waist band of his trousers, sliding two spare clips in to his pocket. Both he and Edward had been taught the skills of shooting by Hawkeye during their time at Eastern Command.

He was a good shoot, probably better now that he could actually feel the trigger he was pulling and wouldn't be struggling to hold the tiny weapon in metal gauntleted hands. He had regularly practiced on the firing ranges when Edward was in some military briefing which he was not permitted to attend.

Edward didn't move and instead scowled at the offered weapon.

"Thanks but no thanks." He muttered, crossing his arms before looking away in distaste. Mustang frowned.

"It wasn't a request Edward. I am well aware of your opinion on firearms but I really don't care. You will take a side arm with you if you are coming on this mission or you can stay behind." Mustang growled, glaring at the blond, letting their gazes clash before Ed finally snorted and reluctantly stepped forward.

The Alchemist picked up the last gun with two fingers by the very corner of the grip, disgust clear on his face as he placed the detested weapon in to his cloak pocket with a single ammunition clip, not even bothering to load the thing. He hated guns.

"Satisfied?" Edward drawled, eyeing the General who simply raised an eyebrow at the juvenile behaviour, a smirk jumping to his face as he watched Alphonse cuff his older brother around the back of the head and retrieved the firearm, loading it before returning it to the cloak pocket.

"Yes." He answered simply before turning back to the rest of his troops. "Alright everyone; lets get moving. It's not getting any drier outside."

The group gathered and moved forward toward the main entrance, Hawkeye and Havoc leading the way, weapons at the ready as they emerged into the pounding rain. Mustang followed with Fuery as communications officer at his side followed by Brenda, Farman and Alphonse. All were semi crouched and walking with a fast step that was almost a jog.

Edward almost snorted at the sight, making a mental note to tease his younger brother over his 'military' image even as he stepped out after them, his cloak freely swirling around his ankles.

As if emerging from the station was all it took the smile faded both from his lips and from his eyes. He might not be 'military' but he knew that what was coming would be serious and that he would potentially facing Envy in what he sincerely hoped would be their last ever battle.

Unconsciously his flesh hand rose and lingered over the centre of his chest, feeling again the blast of phantom pain – the source of which was immortalised by the scar over his heart. Facing his father's sin stirred more than a small amount of fear in him after how the last confrontation had ended.

He swallowed and glanced up briefly at the low dark clouds hanging over head making the dark seem eerie as the lights of the City reflected down. Rain drops plastered his fringe quickly to his face and ran in to his closed eyes. He sighed and looked down, breaking in to a jog to catch easily up with the advancing squad, wishing he were venturing forth alone rather than in their number.

Behind him, in the station, the communications officers continued on with their work, sending out requests for support and organising troop movements to their positions. None of them, busy in their work, took note of the loaded black pistol that sat abandoned and unwanted on the floor in the entrance hall.

[Break]

It had not taken long after the brief delay at the bridge – bulking up the defences held by Captain Carter - for the group to enter the northern half of Central and for them to come across an enemy.

During the short march through the strangely deserted streets Edward's frustration at the entire situation had grown considerably. Here they were, advancing down the street in twos, using the shadows of the shops and town houses as cover. It was all Ed could do not to roll his eyes at the manoeuvres, at the random hand signals being banded around.

It was like being with a group of children trying to play soldiers and the scary thing was that the players were all deadly serious about the game.

Part of him wanted to just move out of the shadows, of which there were very few due to Centrals street lighting and simply stride down the centre of the street, out in open view for all too see. Unfortunately he doubted that either Hawkeye or Havoc who were apparently in charge of the squads 'advance' would have appreciated his suggestion even though it would certainly have made the 'advance' faster.

They'd only covered half a block before Edward heard the familiar clang of steel on stone. Although this sound was deeper than he was used too – as though the armour suit contained an inhabitant rather than echoing hollowly.

He had lived so long hearing that noise as he walked, knowing the sound to be the safety of his brother walking at his side that he almost didn't register the noise as being a threat.

However, Alphonse's gentle tug on his flesh arm was enough for him to stop in his paces and to draw his attention to the fact that his brother – now restored to the flesh – walked with quiet human foot falls and that the clatter coming from the street ahead was actually the approach of an enemy rather than an ally.

"Sounds oddly familiar doesn't it Brother?" Al whispered as though reading his older siblings mind as he drew Edward further to one side of the street and into the scant shelter offered by a shop porch way. Around them the rest of the squad halted and fanned out, weapons raised as the awaited the cause of the noise to make an appearance.

As instructed both Alphonse and Edward were to stay out of the combat unless absolutely required so that the squad could see if they could find a way to take down an invader who reportedly 'would not die'. If they had a weakness that could be exploited by a normal soldier so much the better.

Edward did not answer his younger brother's question although in the shelter of the dark porch his flesh hand found Al's shoulder and provided a reassuring squeeze.

The clanging foot steps grew gradually louder and suddenly a metal clad behemoth came in to sight as it rounded the top of the street and started down the cobbled side road towards the squad's position concealed in the shadows and doorways.

Steel clad legs swung in wide uneven and uncoordinated steps as the armoured being advanced, causing it to sway alarmingly side to side with each step. Its torso seemed to move independently from the legs and with no consideration for its already unstable condition. A large machine gun sat cradled in its gauntleted hands, rotating right and left – covering the street, the buildings, the sky – seemingly at random.

As the muzzle of the weapon swung past the entrance way of their porch Edward felt his brother press him closer to the wall and felt rather than saw the soul armour coat Alphonse's larger form. Edward forced himself to quell the urge to pull away, to place himself so that he could defend his younger sibling.

It was silly really. Countless times in the past in a wide variety of situations Al had used his armour body to shield Edward's flesh form from harm. He could hardly be blamed for continuing to want to defend him, to shield him just because he had been returned to the flesh. Besides with the soul armour Al still had several advantages over Edward – being bullet proof being one of them.

Golden eyes peered around the edge of the porch to continue to watch the enemies advance, noting that all the rest of the squad but Mustang had crouched to one knee, raising rifles to their shoulders, taking careful aim at the lumbering enemy.

As the suit got closer, Edward could make out the terrifyingly familiar shoulder spikes and the single metal 'horn' that decorated the full face helm. He saw the small thin ribbon that ran like a pony tail down from the helm on to the broad metal back and the further spikes that graced the suits knees.

He must have gasped at the sight, identical in every way to the one that had housed Alphonse's soul for close on five years for Al pressed closer, his gauntleted hand finding Ed's and tangling their fingers in reassurance. Saying without words that Alphonse was here, protecting him in to door way and not out in the street about to be gunned down.

It was all Edward could do not to shout a warning at the invader concealed in the once beloved armour as both Hawkeye and Havoc opened fire.

Bullets raked the steel breast plate, impacting the shoulder joints, the links in the torso, hammering into the armours weak points that both marksmen were very familiar with from their contact with Al.

The suit staggered, nearly fell then clumsily regained its balance before turning its own weapon to bare on the street. The return fire blazed several feet over head as the invader sprayed bullets at random, unwilling or perhaps more likely completely unable to coordinate its movement long enough to actually aim.

It continued to lumber forward in it odd unstable gait and when its machine gun clicked empty it seemed to take no notice. Instead it continued to swing the weapon back and forth over the street, finger still tugging on the trigger.

As it got still closer Havoc held his fire and Hawkeye exchanged her rifle for her trusted side arm. The street was silent for a few seconds beyond the continuing clang of the suits foot steps while Hawkeye took aim.

A single loud retort from the high calibre pistol rang out, echoing off the tightly packed buildings.

A single brass bullet lashed out into the darkness and penetrated the thin eye slot in the helm.

The invader froze in mid-step, tittered and crashed down on the cobbles, its machine gun skittering off in to the gutter where it was swept away by the flood of rain water still pummelling the City.

Cautiously Alphonse leaned back, freeing his older Brother from his grasp even as both Brenda and Farman advanced on the downed enemy, leaving the others to continue to cover the far end of the street for any enemy's attracted by the noise.

A bayonet was used to push off the helm and Brenda – far from inexperienced with gruesome scenes nearly gagged at the sight before him. He swallowed hard and averted his gaze by turning to the General.

"Dead Sir." He offered simply before moving forward with Farman and Hawkeye to cover the junction at the end of the street, offering the others protection while they investigated the fallen invaders body.

"Fuery. Inform the defence groups and HQ that the invaders can be killed via a direct hit to the head achieved by shooting through the eye slots of the helm." Mustang commanded as he stepped out of the shadows. Fuery nodded and slipped off his radio pack, rotating the power handle several times rapidly before picking up the head set and issuing the urgent call.

Edward pulled away from his brother and strode fearlessly forward to the downed suit, barely aware of Alphonse on his heels. Havoc was already there, a grimace on his face as he unclipped the torso plate and pulled it free.

Edward froze at the sight before him, his golden eyes flashing wide in shock.

A man had been inside the suit but it had not been Hawkeye's bullet that had killed him. Though mostly crushed by unknown forces and his hair and uniform burnt in places it was his face that was the most disturbing thing. His mouth hung open in a twisted grimace which spoke of agony beyond words, beyond even comprehension.

One blue eye stared up at the over cast night sky while the other was covered in what appeared to be some kind of black tar at a casual glance until Mustang snapped open a flare and held the blazing light aloof, illuminating the body.

Upon the man's head and running down his neck was more of the gruesome black material and the tar near his head seemed to form a small twisted body itself, merged with the mans flesh so that it's eye was sitting where the mans left eye should have been. It was this that had been penetrated with Hawkeye's bullet.

Edward had seen that foul black leering face more than once before, felt its disgusting sticky grip on his flesh as it stripped him of first his left leg and the his right arm and had seen it reach for more. All the time smiling.

Edward turned away sharply and made it several steps before dropping to his knees on the saturated and slippery cobbles and voiding his stomach on the ground before him.

"Brother." Alphonse called in concern, his own grey eyes scanning the twisted flesh and feeling his own stomach try to rebel at the sight. He looked away and stepped after his older sibling, crouching behind the shaking form and rubbing Ed's mismatched shoulders.

Mustang glanced after the two before peering closer at the fallen form, his own face grim and pale at the sight before him.

"Dead at least a day I'd say Sir. There's no blood flow from the wound and it appears rigor mortis has already set in." Havoc reported calmly, using the tip of his rifle to nudge one of the stiff arms to display the fact that the blood had congealed and muscles had tensed in death. From the foul smell emanating from the corpse it was also clear that death had also released parts of the tortured mans anatomy.

"Any idea as to how he was up and moving a second ago?" Mustang asked, knowing that although the other man was an experienced and reliable soldier he was unlikely to have an answer to something as bizarre as this situation.

"No clue Sir, apart from it being related to this tar stuff." Havoc replied, reaching out a hand to touch the strange material.

"DON'T TOUCH IT!"

Havoc jerked back at the yell then found himself backing off further when he noticed that the black tar that he had been reaching out to touch had rippled and had tried to reach back for him.

Both he and Mustang backed up a few steps and watched as the pale faced elder Elric regained his feet and pulled out Havoc's old signature lighter from his trouser pocket.

"Do you know what it is Ed?" Mustang demanded, using one of his soaked spark cloth gloves to indicate the corpse even as he held the dying flare higher, trying to catch a glimpse of Edward's expression in the darkness.

"Yes." Edward replied as the lighter snapped open and the small flame ignited despite the current weather conditions.

Havoc stumbled back as he felt the air twist even as Edward clapped both hands together and the street became awash with a flame so intense that even as the body was consumed the metal armour liquefied and the pooling water on the street steamed. There was only a faint blue flicker in the air between Edward and the body but even from a distance Havoc could feel the overwhelming temperature of the flame.

The lighter flicked shut and whatever force that had torn at the very air dissipated, leaving only a pool of melted steel and glowing cobble stones to mark where the invader had fallen. The stones hissed as the rain drops continued to patter down upon them.

"Full Metal what…"

"It was a creature from inside the Gate and the man's uniform is one that I saw on posters when I went through the Gate to the world on the other side." Edward explained briefly between deep breaths, nearly flinching away when Alphonse rested a supportive hand on his flesh shoulder before he forced himself to relax. "We need to get to the church now."

Mustang stiffened at the words before nodding slowly in acquisition.

"Very well. At this time we will continue on wards but don't think for a second Edward that you are going to face these things alone. We will go and confirm that these things are coming from the Church. Then we will wait and I will march the whole of Armetris' military might down to that underground City. We are an exploratory force only." Mustang growled, stressing the last word.

Edward merely nodded at the words, his golden eyes focused not on his superior or on the street but instead on the problems that would awaiting him at the church.

[Break]

Mustang stared across the square ahead of him from his sheltered position behind the battlements casually transmuted from the tarmac of the street which stretched between the two rows of shops in two parallel lines. It provided his squad with a ten meter 'safe' space between the two walls which the invaders would sincerely struggle to penetrate without either tanks, alchemy or siege towers.

Sometimes, despite his long acquaintance with the alchemic prodigy that was Edward Elric he forgot just how talented and indeed powerful the boy really was. A single clap and the slap of gloved hands on the black tarmac had been all that was required for Edward to reshape their entire surroundings to form a castle wall from the very road they stood upon.

The same task would have taken at least an hour of planning and a five man team of architectural specialist alchemists from the Engineers division and would have – without a doubt – left all five useless for a good few hours after the construction.

Edward however had studied his creation with a critical eye, nodded to himself in satisfaction of a job well done before wandering over to one side of the twenty foot high battlements to glare across the distance separating him from the church.

A space that he had been officially banned from crossing despite his protests on threat of a full court marshal.

The entire square was teeming with the armour clad monstrosities and every few minutes another crawled its way out of the splintered wooden doors of the ancient church only to stagger to its feet and join its fellows.

Edward had been less than amused when he had ordered his team to stop their advance and instead take up defensive positions in the street, hoping to hold their observation position until the City Militia were fully equip and they could start the 'push' to reclaim the north of Central.

After the events surrounding the last time Edward had ventured down in to that underground City there was no way that Mustang was going to allow the two boys down there alone again.

There was no rush and there had not yet been any sign of either Dante or her remaining Sins still loyal to her. They could wait to advance. Wait until the rain stopped, until the Militia freed his own troops from the bridges and allowed Armstrong to advance forward.

Hell, Mustang was fully intending to wait until he could bring to bear his new command of over a hundred truly 'battle ready' and experienced State Alchemists in to the fray. Let Dante face them – men and women trained in warfare rather than the two boys that were under his protection.

He glanced briefly to the right, checking not for the first time that the red cloak that so defined Edward was still slumped forward against the battlements, staring out at the target that was beyond the boys grasp.

Alphonse had given up his self appointed task of trying to reason with his sulking older brother nearly ten minutes ago and was instead discussing something about tactical positions with Hawkeye. A much rumpled and now very wet map of Central was held between them under the shelter provided by the upper walkway of the rear most battlements.

How two people – one so sensible and calm, the other so rash and temperamental – could be born to the same parents sometimes stunned Mustang and he found himself again considering his option of issuing his newest state alchemist with a rank higher than that of his older brother.

It would almost be worth it just to see the anger on Edward's face when it was announced. And very worthwhile when it came to disagreements between the two over exactly whose idea would be employed.

Mustang smiled to himself at the possibilities even as he used one soaked glove to push back his saturated fringe and approached the two who seemed to be plotting the retake of Central.

"I would have thought Edward would have followed you over here to complain by now." Mustang commented, stepping under the overhang and immediately feeling the relief from escaping the constant down pour which was showing no signs of ending.

At least Edward had a hood to take shelter under which was more that he could say for the rather thoughtless design of their own military uniforms. Unfortunately although his squad had remained prepared for combat over the past 3 months, keeping their weapons and battle uniforms close at hand, none of them had considered the need for wet weather gear. At least it was reasonably warm rain.

Alphonse glanced up, his own normally spiky mass of bronzed blond hair, a shade darker than his brothers plastered to his head. His grey gaze flickered to his brother's form in consideration before he straightened from the wall he had been leaning against.

The past three months had shown quite a change in the younger boy. Formerly Mustang would have labelled the younger Elric as shy and somewhat timid despite his soul being entrapped in a two meter high nearly indestructible suit of armour. It appeared that his return to the flesh had brought about quite a change or perhaps simply a revival of the personality he had displayed before the alchemic 'accident'.

Tall enough now to look Mustang in the eye and broader than his brother, it was easy enough to see the new confidence in his gaze and stance. He no longer had to hide who or more accurately what he was for fear of becoming a lab specimen. Added to that a strength to rival Armstrong's and the indestructibility of the Soul Armour and the boy was more than a formidable addition to Mustangs command.

The grey eyes were thoughtful when they turned back to Mustang.

"Yes, I would have thought so too." He answered calmly.

"He's acting like a brat."

"Respectfully General, he is not. He just thinks that all of this is his fault and wants to fix it. And he doesn't want to risk anyone that he loves in getting it fixed. He'd rather do it alone. Brother is just like that." Alphonse responded softly, a small smile tugging at his lips at the antics of his sibling.

"That didn't work out so well the last time. I'm not letting him go down there until I think we are suitably prepared." Mustang growled, his single black eye fixed on the teenager before him who suddenly seemed to be distracted as the grey eyes returned to his brothers form on the walk way.

Mustang turned to look as well, seeing the dark red cloak, it's normally vibrant colour dulled by the rain as it fluttered in the wind, revealing black clad legs. Mustang was drawn to reconsider Alphonse's words and found himself growling a swear word even as Alphonse darted forward, having come to the same conclusion.

Both pounded up the steps to the foremost battlements, boot spraying water as they leapt between the puddles and over to the still figure.

Alphonse reached the figure of his brother first and roughly pushed against the smaller boy's metal shoulder with the intention of spinning his sibling to face him, to prove their assumption wrong. Instead his palm struck something considerably more solid and harder even that automail. With an audible growl Alphonse grabbed the fluttering cloak in both hands and dragged it from the shoulders of the stone figure.

The teen hissed a swear word, his grey eyes burning with fury even as he shoved the cloak toward Mustang. It was stupid really that they had been fooled by the trick. After all, countless times in the past Edward had employed the same trick to slip away from both his enemies and occasionally his allies.

"Damn it Edward." Al snarled; his form blurring as the soul armour coated his entire body – from head to toe – in response to his sudden anger.

Mustang didn't even have time to call out, to order Al to halt as the teen, fully clad in shining metal leapt from the battlements, landed casually after the twenty foot drop and charged full out toward the broken doors of the church.

Random fire washed across the square as the invaders noticed him, forcing Mustang to drop down behind the walkways defences as the uncoordinated enemy attempted to kill the younger Elric.

Bullets ricochet off of the mighty chest plate. The teen ignored the shots; shoving one of the invaders from his path with a strength that sent the other smashing back in to the squares central fountain, causing even more water to wash down from above. The oak doors, splinted only at the bottom from repeated kicks and studded with bullet holes proved to be no obstacle as Alphonse charged them, both gauntleted hands raised in front of him.

The double doors smashed open at the contact, folding backwards on their hinges which in turn pulled free of the stone that had supported them for more than four centuries.

Mustang watched the boy disappear from sight, on the trail of his brother and sighed.

He would never be able to protect the two children now and could only wait until they emerged. In this weather he was just a regular soldier and more of a burden than any assistance in alchemic fighting.

His single black eye glanced again at the statue which had fooled them all and winced at the two words formed in the tarmac, only just visible in the dim glow of the street light from the square.

'Sorry Al.'

[Break]

Elsewhere…

The hanger smelt of death.

Both General Gunter and the creature that had stolen his form knew the smell well enough to be able to readily identify it. Death and absolute fear hung in the air.

How many people – human beings labelled as weak, useless or dangerously deviant – had been force marched in through the heavy metal doors and stood waiting in the darkness beyond to be consumed by the monster housed in this metal prison? Several thousand? Maybe tens of thousands?

The vile monster that Gluttony had become following Dante destroying the last semblances of the ever hungry Sin's personality had fed well since emerging on this side of the gate. Fed well and grown.

The specially picked troops that had been hand trained for this very purpose over this final month made no comment at the sounds emerging from within the securely built bunker into which a further ten newly 'relocated' undesirables had been lead.

Dante had thought that the plan would be easier if Gluttony were 'distracted' by another feeding. From the screams and the strange gurgling noises he could only assume that Gluttony was making the most of this unexpected 'lunch'.

The men shifted soundlessly in to place and he nearly smiled at the efficiency of the crack troops whose loyalty and obedience made it so they did not even question why they were armed with spear launchers rather than rifles.

General Gunter, his stern face displaying nothing of his thoughts gave the signal.

As one the unit pulled open the reinforced doors both on this side of the hanger and on the far side and charged into the darkness in pursuit of their pray.

General Gunter waited and seemed to relax as he did so, leaning back against the cool metal wall and started to twiddle his thumbs in a juvenile show of impatience. Inside he heard the sound of a heavy cable net falling, heard the in human roar of rage, heard harsh voices barking orders in the guttural language most commonly used in this region.

He heard a few full throated screams which brought a strangely satisfied smile to his borrowed features before the hiss of the spears launching forward drowned out all other sound from inside.

A second or two passed as he strained to hear, strained to pick up a clue as to whether the team that he had been training for the past few weeks had been successful in their mission.

A deafening roar rang out for a second, its pitch gradually getting higher until it grew in to a pained and frustrated scream. The door closest to the General slowly reopened and a black clad battered looking corporal, bearing a now emptied spear launcher limped out of the darkness, crimson trickling from a large gash on his forehead.

Thicker black blood – Gluttony's blood – stained the man's hands.

The Corporal stepped forward and straightened with visible effort before snapping a salute.

"General. The creature has been successful captured." He reported, swaying where he stood, his black uniform no doubt concealing further wounds and blood from sight.

General Gunter slapped a hand on to the man's shoulder, stepping forward slightly so that he could see in to the hanger through the still open doorway.

The troops had indeed been successful. The net – merely a distraction – lay in tatters on the griddled floor. In the very centre of the bunker, the creature that had once been Gluttony was pinned in place, its flabby multi limbed and grossly distorted body pierced by the twelve shards that had been formed from the Spear of Longinus.

Although the foul white flesh writhed, spraying the inside of the bunker with further fountains of tar like blood and the occasional pulsing red stone it was firmly pinned in place and powerless against the residual 'pull' of the fragment of the Gate. Around the trashing form lay the lifeless mutilated corpses of the rest of the small unit.

General Gunter smirked at the sight.

"Sir?"

He continued to smirk as his body shifted and one arm jerked outwards. The Corporal, the last survivor of his team gasped as one of the General's arms elongated and smashed through the centre of his chest. As his eyes glazed in to death he saw the face of his beloved commander melt away to be replaced with a pale visage framed by green spiked hair and was able to stare in to the unnatural and soulless violet eyes. It was the last thing he would ever see.

With a shove the lifeless corpse was discarded casually on to the muddied and now blood stained ground and Envy allowed himself a twisted bark of laughter as he strode in to the dark bunker.

Long, un-calloused fingers snapped loudly to draw the attention of his fellow sin and he dramatically 'tsked', shaking his head at the sight before him.

"Gluttony, what have I told you about over eating?" He asked rhetorically, pausing for a second to smirk before opening his mouth for a second flippant comment. He was interrupted though.

"Enough Envy."

The oldest of the Sin's nearly snarled at the dismissive voice as the body formerly belonging to Chairman Erkhart and now firmly possessed by the much decayed soul of Dante strode in to the bunker from behind him, tucking a silenced hand gun in to her belt.

Her startlingly blue eyes, different from the bland colour of her last body scanned the captured sin and the mess around it before running over the griddled flooring, checking that the alchemic circle cut in to the underlying concrete below was undamaged.

Already the deeply cut symbol which Dante had employed on several occasions in the past to summon the Gate was filling with the tar like blood.

"There is not much time. Move aside Envy, unless you wish to become part of the ingredients in the destruction of the Gate."

Without hesitation but wearing a frown at the curt order Envy moved away from the skewered Sin, his nose twitching at the heavy scent of blood now tainted by the clawing scent of roses – the perfume that Dante wore to cover up the smell of her decaying body.

Dante thrust her new features into some resemblance of a pleased smile before bringing her hands together in to a sharp clap and dropping to the grid, her fingers dipping through the gaps in the metal to touch the vicious fluid that poured from the spear wounds in to the circle below.

A wall of red light washed over her, Envy and Gluttony and with a screech like tortured metal the dark, terrifying image of the Gate formed in the darkness. The twin doors were torn asunder by the sheer force of the alchemic reaction and a large crack splintered through the Gate's core.

The light consumed the twisted form that had once been Gluttony leaving the path between the worlds standing open for any to pass through. Within seconds the bunker was empty beyond the still glowing Gate and the bodies of the fallen.

The Gate shuddered and the first of the statues that marked its pillars shattered and fell away, dissolving in to dust.

[Break]

Alphonse forced himself to calm down as he reached the rubble that had once been the sealing stone covering the pathway down to the underground City. The emerging invaders had no doubt smashed the seal to allow them to emerge from the pathway which sat where an alter should have stood – at the very heart of the ancient religious building.

It was clear to see that Edward had already entered the Church and not just from the scattered ruins of armour that had been crushed or skewered by the spikes morphed from the mighty flag stones.

The roof too had been morphed by a blast of pure alchemic energy which had warped and moulded the ancient lead tiles to form a stairwell from the high arched ceiling down to the mouth of the formerly concealed passage.

Roof walking was a secret talent of Edward's and he loved to perform surprise attacks or entrances from above to startle his enemies.

Despite the major alteration in its structure the roof remained mostly intact and Al didn't doubt for a moment that though rain water was now trickling through the gap left behind that the stability of the roof had not been affected. Despite the General's personal beliefs he knew that Edward did not take pleasure in the random destruction of buildings – especially ones with historical significance or more specifically one's through which he intended to escape.

The merest thought of his brother nearly made Al growl in frustration as he smashed one of the few remaining invaders to one side, denting in the chest plate stained with unholy black tar before crushing the front of the helm flat with a right cross. The metal clad form smashed back down to the ground a good five meters away, landing on a group of pews and shattering them on landing. The form did not get back up and Al let the satisfaction at the use of force eat away some of the anger burning in his body.

Without hesitation he ducked in to the passageway, his right gauntleted hand finding and tracing the stout safety rope that ran down one side of the stairwell even as he descended at as swift a jog as he dared on the uneven steps.

He had only gone down about 50 steps when he felt a flash of pain like lightening spike through the very core of his chest, as though he had been kicked directly above the heart without the benefit of his protective chest plate.

He froze in mid step, the hand on the rope line helping him to maintain his balance even as his other hand fisted the front of his soaking t-shirt as he watched the soul armour fade, blurring from existence only to struggle to reform over his hands before disappearing completely.

A sharp curse rang out ahead of him in the darkness, echoing up the stairwell before him and he heard as a body briefly tumbled down a few steps before the ring of metal hitting stone rang out and then the deafening squealing protest of metal eclipsed all other sound. The sound of falling stopped abruptly.

Still pressing one hand over his concealed tattoo Alphonse continued down the stairs, worry at his brother's welfare overriding all else although he was cautious enough still to keep to a slow jog and above all else keep one hand on the rope.

He had gone down easily another hundred steps and was beginning to work up a sweat when he finally reached where his brother had fallen.

Somehow, during the brief tumble Edward's automail hand had managed to gain purchase on one of the rope supports that were hammered at intervals into the stone wall of the passageway at waist level. The support had been crushed nearly beyond recognition by the frantic grip of Edward's replaced hand but it had saved his brother from tumbling more than a few steps.

Edward was curled forward on the stairs, hunched over with his automail arm flung out and still holding him in position while his flesh hand pressed tightly over the centre of his chest, where Envy's blade had marked him. His breathing was harsh and loud in the confined space, drawn as though struggling against a great pain.

The sensation in Al's own chest had considerably lessened as soon as the Soul Armour had relaxed from shielding his body, leaving only a fading dull ache behind, as though his heart had unexplainably skipped a beat and was only now recovering its rhythm.

Edward however seemed to be in serious physical pain as Alphonse knelt beside him on the steps and braced him with an arm around his shoulders.

"Brother?"

"Hurts." Edward managed to gasp, his white glove twisting harshly in the black material of his top, his teeth clenched against the pain. For Edward, who had endured automail surgery on two limbs simultaneously without any type of pain medication or aesthetic to admit something was hurting him Alphonse knew that it must have been absolute agony.

Al's arm tightened as his hand found Ed's own, pulling it free from the top before it tore the material and instead squeezed in reassurance, trying to offer what comfort he could. It was hardly surprising that Ed had fallen if he had been sprinting down the stairs and was suddenly hit with such pain.

"It'll pass." Alphonse murmured, praying that he was right but the sensation that he had experienced was all but gone now and he could hear his brother's breathing changing; the laboured breaths easing back to normal. He steadied his brother for another few breaths before asking "You alright?" gently.

A tight nod - barely visible in the faint light cast by the strange continuously glowing torches that studded the staircase at seemingly random intervals - was Al's only answer as Edward freed himself and sat up. He turned himself so that his back could rest against the nearest wall of the stairwell so that he could relax back as he collected himself after the sudden shock. With effort the automail arm relaxed its grip on the support and dropped into Edward's lap.

"What was that?" Alphonse asked softly, perching opposite his elder sibling on the same step, extending his long legs on to the step below so that Edward could not continue his descent without getting past the created barrier.

Edward shrugged, golden eyes locked on the dark path that lead to the dead City below.

"The Gate I think. Something has happened to it." He answered gruffly.

"What?"

"How the hell should I knowAl?!" Edward snapped, spinning to face his younger brother only to swallow at the harsh emotions boiling in the grey gaze. He let his temper drop before speaking again. "From the pain I'd guess something bad."

He folded his mismatched arms and turned away again. "You shouldn't be here."

"Oh? I beg to differ brother. And if you ever…" Alphonse paused and leaned across the space that separated him from his sibling, catching Edward's jaw in his hand and forcing his head to turn so that grey again met gold. "EVER pull a stunt like that on me again Edward I swear they will need more than a philosopher's stone to put you back together again."

Silence fell between the two of them in the wake of the threat, Alphonse glaring while Edward simply gazed at him, the corner of his lip twitching. It jumped suddenly and formed a grin even as Edward released a short bark of laughter at the ridiculous nature of the situation.

"But think of the profit that Winry could make on reconstructing me." He offered blithely, raising a cynical eyebrow as he watched Al's glare fade into something akin to frustrated acceptance although the anger didn't disappear completely.

"Edward," Alphonse said; his voice soft but his expression determined as he tried to get across his point. "We're all we've got left. I won't let you go down there alone to fight."

"I have to Al, it's my mistake and my battle to fight."

"No Brother. You don't HAVE to do anything. You want to face it alone because that way no one can get hurt but you. It doesn't work like that." Alphonse all but growled. "We are Brothers. I face what you face. We fight our battles and fix our mistakes together."

"Al…" Edward tried to say but was interrupted.

"Discussion is over Ed."

Edward snorted.

"That wasn't a discussion. That was a declaration!" He argued only to get a small indulgent smile in return from his younger sibling.

"Call it what you will. It won't be changing despite any amount of further debate." Al responded.

"That's not fair Al."

Alphonse rolled his eyes at the childish remark, standing up and pulling his older yet smaller brother up to his feet beside him.

"We could always go back to the surface and you could lodge a complaint with General Mustang that the newly commissioned Soul Alchemist isn't being 'fair'." Alphonse suggested, gesturing up the stairs, back the way they had already come towards where a no doubt furious General was waiting to issue out court marshals upon their return. "Are you going to stop arguing now?"

"Fine. I don't know why I even bother any more. I always lose." Edward muttered, huffing again in frustration as he brushed the stone dust from his leather trousers that were now scuffed on the knee and thigh from his brief fall. "But before WE face Envy there's something you need to know."

Together the Elric brothers began to descend the stairs once again.

[Break]

Edward took a deep breath of the dusty, almost dead air as his unnaturally golden eyes scanned the City laid out below him from the upper ridge, remembering the first time that he had seen the destruction that his own father's single minded search for the stone had wrought.

He had come close – in the bowels of Lab 5 he had come dangerously close to repeating Hoinheim's mistake – but he had not completed the circle. He had not taken the lives offered.

He could see the darkness of the Gate sitting at the very heart of the Alchemic symbol carved deeply in to the streets of the once teeming City that now stood so empty, an eternal monument to the true cost of the Philosophers stone. It seemed to swallow the light around it, dwarfing all that surrounded its position at the centre of the Square upon which Hoinheim and his lackeys had stood the day they wiped out the entire population of this huge out post of humanity.

He should not have let Envy escape in to the Gate. He should not have allowed Dante to run and then to vanish as well in to the depths that existed beyond the mighty door way that bridged the two worlds and death itself. Those were his mistakes and he was here now to fix them, once and for all.

Alphonse stepped in beside him and looked for the first time down upon the ruins, his face drawn in a concerned frown. The long descent had given them time to talk, to discuss things that Edward had intended to keep secret, things that he did not want to worry his younger brother with.

Envy's try identity had been one of them.

Edward would not risk the most dangerous of the Sin's shocking his little brother with that particular information. Wouldn't risk Al freezing as he had done upon seeing that face, seeing those eyes. Envy would take advantage of any hesitation, as he had three months ago, often with deadly results.

They continued forward, running through the abandoned streets that had not felt human foot falls in more than four centuries.

The path that the invaders had taken was clear to be seen, the damage caused by their gun fire and clumsy yet terrifyingly powerful bodies leaving a trail a blind man could follow.

It seemed like sacrilege. For them to have smashed windows, shattered doors and marred the walls of the long empty homes. Almost like smashing a tomb stone in a cemetery.

Several of the armour clad creatures – demons from the darkness lurking inside the Gate that acted as puppeteers, manipulating the dead soldiers to do their whim – were still gathered in the square.

They seemed different somehow to the near mindless beings that shot at random and staggered to and fro that they had already encountered on the surface, in northern Central. These stood passively, as though waiting for someone to arrive, their machine guns held low at their sides.

As soon as Edward stepped out on to the square, the group of ten armoured figures turned as one to face him, their bulky weapons levelling toward him and the armour clad form of his younger brother.

These were the smarter demons from the Gate, the one's that had taken exception to him escaping being consumed by them on his way between the worlds, the one's that he had pulled free from, who had been burnt by the all engulfing power of his alchemy. They had been waiting here for him, knowing that he would come.

Flesh met steel and an echoing clap rang out across the square. Blue lightning engulfed the flagstones and a ripple of power made the solid ground buck beneath the feet of the waiting creatures. The first bullets struck the rising ground before the stone that had formed a wave washed upon the group, smashing them from their feet and in to the wall of a nearby shop.

"So…the pipsqueak lives."

Edward snapped round then up and his golden eyes fell on the hated form of Envy, standing up on the top of the plinths for one of the statues that had once dotted the square. The rubble scattered on the surrounding ground was testimony to the exact fate of the former occupant of the plinth.

Edward felt a touch on his shoulder as Alphonse moved passed him, his expression hidden beneath the grim visage of the helm of his soul armour.

"Go. I'll deal with the Invaders then join you." His younger brother offered, before stepping between Edward and the group that were staggering back to their feet. Out of the corner of his eye Edward saw him leap the cracked flag stones and smash one mighty fist straight in to the helm of one of the enemy, sending the form crashing back through the wall. Alphonse might have been returned to the flesh but his strength – the pure strength of his soul - had not diminished in anyway.

"I could have sworn I killed you."

Edward turned back to the slim form, his gaze narrowing as Envy leapt from the plinth down to the ground, his every move both graceful and predatory. The eerie violet eyes all but glowing in the dusky light.

"Where's your precious Master, Envy? And your precious family of Sin's." Edward asked back, stepping into his ready position even as he watched Envy's approach. He tried to remain focused on the knowledge that he'd had the oldest Sin pinned and at his mercy during their last fight. Unfortunately the memory of both his death and of Wrath's assistance were forth right in his mind.

"Oh, she's around somewhere planning the destruction of Amestris no doubt. I'm sure Pride is also on his way." Envy replied, brushing one hand through his gravity defying hair before jabbing a finger in Ed's direction, a wicked grin on his face. "You know it's not every day I get to kill someone twice. I think I might actually enjoy this."

"Pride won't be coming." Edward offered, his voice calm as Envy continued to close in, no more than ten meters away now and getting ever closer. His flesh hand's palm was sweating inside the encasing white cloth of his glove and it was all the blond could do to resist the urge to wipe his hand. He wouldn't give Envy the satisfaction of seeing his discomfort though. "Is your Master…wait… shouldn't that be Mother…still rotting away?"

Envy just smiled at the insult, snapping his fingers before pointing one hand at Edward like a gun. His image changed and reformed in to the tall golden haired form of a young man in his early twenties. His true form.

"I'm going to kill you again Edward. And this time there's no stone to bring you back. And once your dead I'm going to have some fun with my baby brother. I'm going to spend hours scraping that blood seal from inside his armour. And then I'm going to hunt down and kill everyone you have ever met, everyone you have ever cared for." The voice was deeper in this form but the twist, the undercurrent of pure malicious evil remained as did the glowing violet eyes.

Edward gazed calmly in to the face of his older half brother, born four centuries ago and cursed by Hoinheim's own inability to allow the son that he loved to go peacefully into death.

Their father had broken the taboo and had summoned his son back from death using the stolen power of the stone but unwilling to make the ultimate sacrifice required. Instead of his son he had been given a demon wearing his son's face. A demon that could steal the faces of any other, a power that enabled the hurt he inflicted to go that one step further, make it more emotional.

His flesh hand tapped against his automail fist and blue light washed over the metal arms that replaced flesh surrendered in exchange for his younger brother's soul. The plate that lined the back of the false forearm melted and rippled, flowing out to form a razor sharp blade of titanium. Tatters of white cloth floated softly down to the stone floor.

"You are the one who's going to die Envy." Edward said softly, both arms coming up to rest in his signature ready position, his body stilling as calm replaced the fear, letting his mind focus on nothing but his mission, his duty to rid the world of the creature that his father had created.

"You? You are going to kill me?" Envy snorted, shaking his head in amusement. "You really are delusional aren't you pipsqueak. You really think you can win a fight against me? Ha!"

Hands clapped together again and Envy was forced to stop his ringing laughter to jump clear as the flag stones erupted beneath him in to spikes. He landed on clear ground and turned back to face the blond alchemist, anger at being interrupted clear on his face which had morphed back again to that which he normally wore.

He darted forward and brought a fist to bear at Edward's face. The blow was blocked on a metal forearm and Envy pulled back fast to avoid losing an arm to the blade that followed, only to strike out again with a speed beyond anything a human could manage.

Despite the speed of the blows Edward managed to dodge or block three punches and two kicks before Envy feinted to the side and managed to get a blow in against the smaller teen.

Edward rolled with the knee to his back, letting the force of it knock him forward in to a flip, sensing rather than seeing Envy dash after him to follow through with a second blow. As he planted his flesh hand for the flip he threw his weight to one side and spun on his legs around, sending himself in to a sudden cartwheel and out of Envy's immediate range.

Even as he regained his feet he growled low at the pain in his wrist from muscles that had been twisted cruelly to perform the unexpected summersault. He didn't have much time to dwell on the pain though as he found himself blocking a spinning roundhouse kick aimed directly at his face.

His automail hand managed to catch the limb as he blocked, the fingers closing in a crushing grip. Hydraulics compressed and whined as the limb that could bend metal and smash through stone tried to curl over and reach the palm despite the ankle that was pinned between them.

Envy cried out and leapt, his other leg snapping out in to another roundhouse kick, striking Ed's flesh shoulder in a bid to secure his own release. The automail arm didn't respond to the shock of the hit though and instead Edward brought his other hand to bare, smashing his fist in to the leg he had captured while his right twisted savagely.

Something snapped and Edward twisted, spinning and threw Envy as hard as he could away from him, smashing him in to the plinth that the Sin had stood upon not that long ago. The demonic creature landed head first into the rubble; his neck twisting sharply to the side and another ugly snap rent the air.

Panting at the furious exchange Edward winced as he watched the Sin stagger back on to his feet and force his leg back straight even as he twisted his obviously broken neck back in to its correct position. A faint red glow pulsed over the tattoos marking Envy's body, the stains that ingesting the red stone left in their wake. In seconds the Sin stood there whole and well again.

"Nice pipsqueak. That almost hurt." Envy smiled, wiping a small trickle of black blood from his lip. "You're not getting tired are you?" The violet eyes scanned the smaller form and the grin widened as he took in the slightly hunched position Edward had adopted, bruised ribs aching.

"Shut the hell up Envy." Edward growled, forcing his body again in to the ready position, beginning to circle the Sin as he stepped clear of the remains of the statue and began again to approach.

This time it was Edward's turn to dash forward, catching Envy in mid step and managing to hammer home a front snap kick and slash forward with his automail blade toward the green haired homunculi's venerable stomach. The blade penetrated, the razor edge cutting flesh and bone to punch through Envy's body and emerge out of his back.

Envy smiled.

"Poetic don't you think." The Sin offered, blood staining his white teeth before he forced himself backward off of Edward's blade and with an open hand shoved Edward backward. The blond alchemist staggered and nearly tripped over the cracked flag stones, his golden eyes locked on the hole jutting through Envy's core.

He watched the red glow wash over the injury and the flesh mould back to normal – as though the mortal wound had never struck. "You can't kill me Little Brother. I can't BE killed."

"Greed, Pride, Sloth and Lust all died. One way or another." Edward muttered. Envy snorted, dismissing his fellow now fallen Sin's with a wave of one hand.

"I'm not like them. Not weak like them." Envy responded before smiling again, his glowing eyes darkening until they were almost black. "Now Pipsqueak. It's time for you to die for a second time."

Envy lunged forward and Edward barely ducked in time as a fist swung for his face. He managed to get his flesh arm up to block the hook that landed on his forearm with such power that it nearly knocked him off his feet but failed to avoid the third punch that slipped below his guard and hammered in to his stomach.

Edward reeled backwards, trying to retain his guard despite the blast of pain from his abdomen that informed him curtly that at least one of the ribs that had been merely bruised was now broken.

The deluge of hits continued to rain down and even as he slashed out desperately with his blade arm, his left warding off a kick he failed to take in to consideration Envy's agility and took a round house kick to the face even though his blade slashed open Envy's shoulder.

Edward went down on the flag stones, his breath knocked out of him by the force of the landing but forced himself to roll with the momentum of the strike, to try to get clear of a follow up attack. He had managed to roll once on to his back when a solid weight landed on his hips, pinning him in place and an open handed slap stung his right cheek.

He glared up at the grinning form above him and stabbed upwards with his right arm, mirroring the attack that Envy had used to kill him in their last battle. Except rather than being successful the automail was caught and twisted painfully back down to the ground.

"Ah, this certainly brings back memories." Envy murmured, his free hand lifting into a drawn back position, ready to punch forward. The arm morphed and lengthened in to a decent imitation of Edward's own blade and just as lethal.

"You leave him alone!"

The steel gauntlet struck Envy a devastating blow to the side of the head, the sheer force sending his lithe form air borne only to land in the ceremonial fountain some meters away. The fountain had been empty of water for some centuries and instead it was rubble and dust that filled the air when Envy's body slammed through one of the tiled walls.

Grey eyes – so different from the red that had formerly occupied the eye slit in the empty soul occupied armour – frowned after Envy before dropping to his older brother who was pulling himself to his feet. The Full Metal Alchemist forced himself up right and glanced at the taller form beside him.

"You okay brother?" Alphonse asked only to spin back to the pile of rubble at the sound of a delighted if slightly strained laugh.

"Oh how lovely. The tough and scrappy pipsqueak being saved by his little brother." Envy laughed, wandering clear of the rubble, one hand massaging the newly restored cheek bone and jaw that had been completely shattered by the single punch. The violet eyes glared at the suit of armour. "And who gave you permission to interrupt? I thought you had your own little play mates."

The helm tilted slightly to one side and Edward could picture without looking the annoyed expression that Alphonse would be wearing beneath the protection of the soul armour. One gauntleted hand rose and indicated the entrance to the square, where ten shattered and broken similar armour suits lay discarded.

"I got bored." Al replied calmly, stepping in to his own ready position, legs set solidly, his massive arms raised as Envy turned, surveyed the damage caused to the Invaders that he had personally sent through the Gate. "Why don't you just die once and for all Envy?"

"He's like a cockroach Al." Edward growled, pulling off the white glove that still adorned his flesh hand and dropping it to the ground. "As much as you stamp on him, he'll keep coming back."

"I'd imagine you know quite a bit about cockroaches don't you Ed. Although I suspect some of them are taller than you." Envy snapped, glaring at the united front that now faced him, the towering armour clad form beside the diminutive but still dangerous alchemist.

Edward ignored him and instead gently swept one hand over the blade formed of his automail, watching the blue light glow and the metal to ripple back in to its original shape, leaving him again with two useable hands.

"Thing about Cockroaches is that their fairly easy to kill when you know how." Golden eyes flashed up to meet violet and any sign of weakness from the injuries already inflicted faded under the harshness of that gaze. The flesh hand struck out and for a second Envy started to laugh at the fact that the boy had forgotten to even clap only to find himself smashing back off of his feet as the flagstones bucked.

Envy landed badly and then had to lunge immediately in to a shoulder roll as stone spikes jutted upwards around him, creating a lethal jungle. The Sin swore even as he flipped to his feet and found himself again tumbling through the air as a giant stone fist smashed him to one side.

Edward watched as the Sin smashed through the age weakened glass front of one of the shops that faced on to the square before relaxing slightly, the blue lightning that had swirled around him and had charred the stone beneath his feet black fading again from sight. He nodded to Alphonse before taking a deep breath, focusing his mind on a symbol that he had used only twice before.

Alphonse darted forward to take over even as Envy staggered out of the store front, the tattoos marring his limbs glowing as yet another red stone was consumed to heal the Sin. Dazed still by the unexpected alchemical attack the homunculi did not react in time to avoid the two huge hands that latched on to his shoulders. He kicked futilely against the heavy chest plate as he was hoisted in to the air and tossed again.

This time he landed exactly where Edward wanted him, against the thick wall of the church that took up one entire end of the square. This wall, unlike the others didn't crumple or fall at the force of the impact but instead stood solid.

Or at least it did until the sparks of bright blue washed over it and melted the stone, letting the material reach out and imprison Envy's hands, pulling the collapsed Sin back up to his feet.

Now truly furious violet eyes flickered open and glared at the silent form of Edward Elric who stood just out of kicking reach. The Sin leaned forward, putting as much pressure on the strong but brittle stone bonds as possible.

"How?! How are you doing this? You're not clapping!" Envy snarled, gaze jumping between the State Alchemist and the - was that another teenager? – that had stepped up to the blonds side, face dangerously blank. The similarities between them were undeniable.

Edward raised an eye brow calmly, and Envy nearly gasped as blue lightning flickered in the depths of his golden eyes before flashing in to life around him, washing over the ground beneath Envy's feet. The black lines of an alchemic circle traced itself in to the granite flag stones, leaving Envy trapped at the symbols heart.

"It's amazing what you learn when you die, Envy." Edward answered, smiling as the light again faded away and then nodding again toward the teenage that was without doubt Alphonse – his body somehow restored despite the fact that it should have been engulfed and consumed upon the activation of the philosophers stone. "Of course in your case I doubt anyone will try to resurrect you."

"You aren't listening Pipsqueak. You can't kill me. I am immortal."

"Really? This worked when I killed Greed and Sloth." Edward commented, flexing his automail fingers even as he stepped forward, entering the circle that he had just formed even as Alphonse crouched at the outer edge, his hands poised to activate the circle. Envy snorted.

"For a so called alchemic prodigy you are stupid Elric. I recognise the symbol, the alchemic circle of Avarice, right?"

"Hmm." Edward confirmed, coming to a stop just out of range of Envy's still trashing legs.

"It requires a part of the Sin's original body to work Pipsqueak. And my remains are - trust me – long gone." The green haired homunculi threw back his head and laughed even as he tugged hard on the stone cuff entrapping one arm, satisfaction washing over his face as the cuff cracked and began to give way.

The satisfaction shattered when a metal fist smashed hard in to his bare stomach, the limb flashing with intense blue as the blade penetrated for a second time and a metal capsule was deposited. The blade was pulled clear and the red glow from yet another stolen life washed over the Sin's torso, healing him and sealing the capsule inside his body.

"W…what?"

The stone manacles turned to dust at a wave of Edward's hands, dropping Envy on to the circle even as the small blond leapt clear of the circle. Alphonse's hands slapped down the second his brother was clear and activated the circle.

"What have you done?" Envy screamed as the power from the symbol of Avarice washed over him. He collapsed to his knees and gagged, choking as the red stones that he had consumed through out his tainted yet long life surged to escape his body.

A mouth full of the red jewels scattered on to the flagstones and were dissolved in the on going reaction, providing fuel for the circle of Avarice.

Edward crouched at the side of the circle, golden eyes meeting the now panicking violet as another handful of stones stained the ground. Tens, maybe even hundreds of lives that the Sin had consumed with out thought or feeling toward the people who died to feed his continuous hunger.

"Your remains may be long gone Envy, but our 'father' was a tad sentimental and kept a tuff of your hair in his watch." Edward answered, standing again and he gestured with one hand for Alphonse to move away from the downed Sin.

The circle began to dim as Envy ran out of stones to bring up, its power fading.

Coughing from the force of the gagging fit Envy stumbled to his feet, swaying even as the black tattoos that had marked his limbs for so long faded from view. Only the symbol of the snake eating its own tail, the true identifier of the homunculi remained on his thigh.

With obvious effort his body shifted and reformed. The tall powerful body of William Elric stood before his two younger half brothers for the first time. His golden hair - the exact shade of Edward's own; his strong jaw and low brow a perfect yet natural imitation of Hoinheim's. Only the starling violet eyes marked him as being other than human.

"Come one Ed…Al. You don't really think you can kill you own brother, do you?"

"You're not our brother." Alphonse replied, his grey eyes hard.

"Our brother died four centuries ago from mercury poisoning." Edward growled, his flesh hand drawing the battered golden lighter from his pocket, one thumb resting lightly against the top. "You are just the soulless monster that stole his body when my father committed yet another taboo."

The lighter flicked open.

The small flame flashed in to life.

The now mortal form of the last of the Sin's was silently consumed by flames hot enough to melt the very stone.

[Break]

For a few minutes after the lighter was flicked closed and slipped back in to the safety of Edward's pocket silence lingered between the two brothers. It was hard to imagine that the Sin that had taken personal delight in tormenting them was finally truly destroyed.

It was the sound of rubble falling that jerked them both round to the Gate that had sat unnoticed at the very centre of the square during the battle, avoided but also ignored by the combatants.

Now Edward found himself looking - really looking – at the familiar towering shape that he sometimes wished did not plague his dreams and recently many of his waking moments too.

The stone pillars that shone like the sun seemed somehow faded and the twisted forms and statues that had defined its outer shape were tarnished and cracked. The sound that had drawn their attention had been one of the warped cherubs that had sat perched above the arch of the door falling from its place to shatter on the flag stones.

The huge unforgiving eye that had glared at Edward every time that he had confronted the barrier between the dimensions was cracked in two where the two doors had been forced open. Black dripped from the damage as though blood was leaking from an injury.

Even as Edward watched the entire Gate seemed to shudder and more of the pillars fell away. The Gate was breaking down before his very eyes.

"I take it the Gate doesn't normally look like that." Alphonse murmured, voice lowered respectfully. Edward felt the same oppressive atmosphere, as though they were in a library or perhaps a more adapt description would be at a funeral. Like the Gate was dying.

"No." Edward answered. For all the times that he had laid eyes on the portal, he had always respected the sheer power in every arch and stone. Even when it had taken his limbs and tried to steal Al's entire being he had been unable to deny that the structure was awe inspiring. He almost felt sorry that Al could not see it as he had seen it. "It's been damaged."

"I wonder how?" Al commented.

"Do you boy? I could tell you if you wish."

Both Elric's spun to face the voice and came face to face with a tall blond woman dressed in an immaculate uniform comprised of suit trousers and jacket that covered every inch of her form. The cloth was the same dull green of the Invaders and a red band ran around her left arm marred with the black swastika, the only difference beyond the better cut of the uniform was the black neck tie fastened around her throat.

"Dante." Edward growled, his hand coming up but rather than taking a fighting stance he instead readied them to clap, hoping that she had not been watching the fight with Envy and that the 'alchemy without a clap' was still an ace that he could pull.

"No my boy. I am Chairman Erkhart, one of Fuhrer Adolf Hilter's most loyal." The woman replied, stepping closer, her hands open in front of her and her voice ringing with a foreign accent.

"Still rotting away despite yet another new body Dante? I'd know that foul stench anywhere." Edward snapped, his hands meeting in a clap and slapping down on to the flagstones. The stones bucked and rose in to a fist that tried to snatch hold of the woman before them. However she had also clapped and the stone dissolved to sand that whipped around the square, engulfing both teens.

"Oh Edward. We really must work on your manners. Don't you know how dangerous it is to insult a woman's look's."

Alphonse had found that his soul armour did not make him invincible as he staggered backward, one metal clad arm over the slit in his helm. He had realised that the slit was venerable too late to prevent getting a face full of sand and found himself dropping to his knees, choking on a mouth full even as he struggled to clear his watering eyes.

The sand cleared and Dante stared in shock at the form of Edward Elric, the world renowned alchemic prodigy standing calmly and completely unaffected by the sand storm. Around him, in a perfect circle was piled the sand that she had wielded as a weapon against him, as though it had hit a shield around the boy and been deflected.

"Interesting." She murmured to her self even as she stepped over the wrecked remains of the flagstones that she had dissolved.

"What did you do to the Gate?" Edward demanded, clapping his hands once more to send a blast of pure ice air toward Dante's taller form, mimicking the signature move of the defeated Ice Alchemist with ease. Dante clapped and ducked, her hands slapping the ground that washed up to first block the attack and then spike up toward Edward.

This time she saw the blue light wash over his entire form as he smoothed the spikes before they could take form under his feet, blocking her own alchemic power from reaching the stone and instead somehow swallowing or diverting the power.

"I overwhelmed it. I smashed it open on the other side using the sacrifice of thousands of people and Gluttony in the transmutation." She smiled and gestured toward the massive structure as one entire top half of one of the supporting pillars cracked and fell, dissolving as soon as it landed on the ground. "Very soon Edward, the Gate will crumble and there will be nothing separating the world and nothing to stop the demons from emerging."

"Why?" Edward yelled, eyes widening as the full impact of the destruction of the gate washed over him. If the two worlds merged, if the dark creatures escaped…

It would be the end of everything.

"Well, as you pointed out so kindly Edward, I am rotting away and because of you I won't be able to form another philosopher's stone in time to switch bodies. After four hundred years of life I will now die. But if I must die than the whole world will join me." Dante spat, her eyes burning even as she clapped her hands again and smashed them down on to the stone of the square.

A giant stone snake struck out at Edward and he was forced to jump back as its nose smashed toward his chest. He clapped even as he jumped, both palms smashing down on the monsters nose. The stone shattered. Edward landed, ready to strike back and his eyes widened as a second blast of spikes came not at him but at Alphonse who was kneeling on the ground some distance away, still trying to clear his eyes, the soul armour relaxed to allow him to use flesh hands to wipe at his irritated eyes.

"No!"

Blue light forked out from the centre of Edward's chest and smashed in to the spikes, cancelling out Dante's alchemic energy before the spikes could take form beneath his brother's flesh and blood body. Even as he destroyed that threat he realised that it had been a rouse.

Realising and doing something about it were unfortunately two different things as the stone fist formed beneath his body and grasped hold of his left leg. It rose and lifted him sharply in to the air, the grip crushing before it tossed him to the ground before Dante, the abused limb still pinned in the stone hand.

Edward tried and failed to hold back a scream as he felt his bones shatter in the hold, felt the ligaments of his knee sheer and tear as his weight was tossed around on the joint as he was relocated. Tears of agony blurred his vision and beneath the agony sparking up his ruined limb he recognised the warm trickle of blood leaking from where his bone had bitten through his own flesh.

His cry echoed over the dead City, ear splittingly loud.

"Oh dear. I could have sworn that was your automail limb. Appears you got the real one back, not that it'll do you much good now." Dante leaned over him, smiling although the expression didn't reach her eyes. "It appears experience wins out again Edward. Don't worry, it won't hurt for long."

The stone fist released the destroyed limb and rose, its blood stained palm angled over Edward as though ready to swat a fly. Dante paused to saviour the moment.

The retort of a hand gun shattered the silence.

Through the blur of tears Edward watched Dante's head snap to one side, her stolen face a bloody mess before the body collapsed. His brother had always been an excellent marksman.

So strange to think that a single bullet had triumphed when all that expended alchemic power, all those transmutations had failed. The single shot had brought a life of over four centuries crashing to a halt.

Edward heard rather than saw the frantic scratching of chalk on stone before the shadow of the hand that loomed over him washed back and flattened again to re form the much abused flooring of the square.

"Brother, can you hear me?" Al asked softly, his hand slipping into his other brother's single flesh hand. Edward could picture those grey eyes gazing down at the damage inflicted on his newly restored leg and nearly told his sibling to look away.

But he knew it would do no good and if he couldn't win an argument with Al whilst in perfect health there was no way he would win now.

"Yeah Al." He forced his eyes to open and came face to face with the concerned grey eyes. "If you ask…me if I'm…alright…I may…hit you."

Alphonse chuckled lightly at the panted words, knowing that his brother needed to hear it although he could not have felt less like laughing. The damage was sever and more than life threatening. Though by some miracle the shattered bones had somehow failed to pierce the femoral artery, Edward was still bleeding quite heavily.

But the dazed expression and pale face it was also obvious that the older teen was going in to shock. Alphonse pulled off his dark blue jacket and gently spread it over his brother's chest before beginning to even contemplate how to split the leg enough for him to carry his brother to aid.

"Keep talking to me Ed." He commanded.

Edward huffed and blinked, raising one unsteady hand to wipe the liquid from his eyes even as his automail fingers crushed a fragment of rubble to dust in an unsuccessful bid to try to control the blinding pain.

"You shot her." Edward managed, eyes dropping to the black pistol that was tucked in the front of Al's belt.

"Yes. I did." Al answered seriously, hands busy as he drew another alchemic circle slightly away from his brother's crippled form, before standing and dashing toward a nearby store front, using the strength of the soul armour to tear the wooden frontage from the building that he needed for ingredients.

"I'm sorry."

Al paused, setting down the sizable lump of ancient timber before crouching back at Edward's side, relaxing the soul armour and brushing a hand through the blond hair that fanned the ground under his brother's head.

"Don't be. She was going to kill you. I was hardly going to stand by and watch."

Something stirred in the rubble between them and the Gate and Al spun towards it even as Edward forced himself up in to a sitting position with a growl of pain, swaying where he sat as he held his hands ready to clap.

Another Edward stood in the rubble, at the mouth of the Gate. Two flesh hands were extended out to each side, palms showing in a gesture meant to be as un-threatening as possible.

"Envy." Alphonse snarled, his body reflectively summoning forth the armour that had been his body for so long, letting the steel coat his form again in its protective hold. His brother's hand reached out and grabbed hold of his steel shoulder spike, stopping him from charging.

"Envy is dead." It was shocking that both of the identical teens spoke as one but what was more shocking was that the Edward near the Gate spoke with a voice deeper and older than Edward's could ever attempt to even imitate. Instead of Golden eyes this being that stood before them had eyes of solid haunting black. Not just black pupils and iris' but where a human eye would be white it's was black.

"I know you." Edward whispered, hissing in pain as he struggled to remain in his upright position, relaxing only when Alphonse placed a supporting arm at his back, giving him something solid to lean back against. "I've seen you before."

"Yes."

"Why do you take my form?" Edward demanded, golden eyes burning as the mirror image stepped closer and crouched just beyond arms reach, the fathomless black eyes studying the damaged leg.

"I can only take the form of those that have died, those that have crossed over. The homunculi that you call Envy inherited the gift in its advanced form when he was created. All Sins steal a skill of the Guardian upon their creation."

"Why not another form? Why not your own form?" Edward growled; the grimace on his face growing as the blood loss began to affect his balance.

"What familiar form could I take that would not stir an emotional reaction Edward? Whose form but yours could I take that you would not be angered by? Should I wear the guise of Hughes, of Hoinheim, of your mother perhaps?" The creature paused and the image flickered briefly, causing Alphonse to gasp and nearly draw back as the figure showed its true form.

It was hard to describe the being before them. Only vaguely humanoid its entire body was the purest black, so dark that it seemed to engulf and destroy any light that hit it. There was no face, no mouth, only eyes that burned with a golden flame, the only colour on the creature's body. It was the stuff of nightmares. Not perhaps vile or ugly as some might picture a night horror but still so strangely different and terribly terrifyingly real.

It had wings, if you could call the skeletal structures spiking from its back wings. It had viciously sharp claws on all four of its hands and a tail which seemed to lash of its own accord.

As suddenly as the demonic image had appeared it blurred again and instead the calm visage of Maes Hughes watched the two boys, the black eyes the only thing marking him as not being the man that they had once known.

"I thought it less shocking not to appear in my normal form. You Edward might be more used to it but I believe Alphonse is more than a little shocked."

Edward turned slightly with considerable effort and squeezed Alphonse's shoulder in offered comfort before once again regarding the Guardian of the Gate.

"What do you want?" Edward asked, his breath still coming in short pants as he fought the pull of unconsciousness. The form before him smiled softly, sitting on the ground. It twitched as yet another pillar cracked in two and fell heavily to the ground.

"While I guard the Gate I can not fix it. I need an alchemist to do that. A skilled one."

"I'm sorry to interrupt with a practical point but Edward is actually bleeding to death here." Alphonse interrupted with a glare. For some reason though his defensiveness was accepted with only a smile from the creature. "Unless he can heal his own leg or you can we need to get him to a hospital."

"It's beyond healing Edward. You don't have the materials." The Guardian offered as Edward's golden eyes ran over the extensive damage to the limb and came annoyingly to the same conclusion. The black eyes almost looked sad as the creature voiced the inevitable. "It would also take hours of intensive work, during which time you would die of blood loss."

"Why do you care anyway?" Edward muttered, glaring up at the form whom had shuffled closer and reached out to gently pushed Edward back down so that the pale teen was again stretched out on the crimson stained flagstones.

"Several reasons, Edward Elric." The guardian murmured, black eyes meeting golden full on even as one hand guided Alphonse carefully away. "I can't heal the damage but I can replace it with the one left within the Gate on the day of your resurrection."

Edward's eyes widened and then closed in pain, both at the damage to his restored limb and at the offered return of the automail. Even with shock numbing his mind he knew that the likelihood of doctors saving his leg, especially given the current situation in Central was unlikely.

"Even if you get out of here in time Edward, even if you leave the Gate to shatter and return to the surface, do you really think that they will be able to return your leg to what it once was. At the very best you will limp for the rest of your days, at worst they will amputate and that will just leave you in the position you are now, except that you will be again facing the pain of automail surgery."

"At least there's a chance of still having his leg." Alphonse snapped but went silent again at the sight of his brother's raised hand.

"Do it."

"Brother!" Alphonse cried, trying to dive forward to interfere, to stop his older brother from being again burdened with the automail that he was originally so glad to have been rid of.

He slammed into a wall of power and shouted in surprise as blindingly white light, purer than anything he had ever seen in alchemic reactions washed over his brother and the figure than again had dropped the guise of Hughes and returned to the nightmarish demonic visage.

When his eyes eventually cleared and the light had faded Edward was sitting up once again, still looking pale from the blood loss but no longer swaying. He pulled his uninjured leg underneath him and began to stand, accepting as he did so the hand the Hughes had offered to assist him.

For the first time in over three months Alphonse heard the dull ring of the metal automail foot thud to the stone ground as Edward regained his feet, both metal limbs, arm and leg both shining in the light from the Gate.

He winced at the sound, for his brother's sake. He had known that the idea of living with a limp, with a weakness was unacceptable to Edward. That he would rather deal with the constant burden of metal limbs than face being weak.

"Are you alright Edward Elric?" The Guardian asked, his hand still poised on Edward's elbow, steadying him. Alphonse nearly snarled at the sight and instead stepped forward to grasp Edward's other arm, glaring at the other until with the same soft smile the figure wearing Hughes' body released its grip and stepped away.

"Fine." Edward commented; raising a brow at his brother's over protectiveness before looking again toward the Gate. One door had collapsed and only the stump of one pillar remained. Beyond the arch way the darkness teemed and boiled, small black hands clawing at the one remaining door as though trying to tear it down, trying to destroy the Gate faster. There was not long. "How do I fix it?"

"Brother. You don't know what the equivalent exchange will be. You don't have to…"

Edward gently pulled free from his younger brother's concerned grasp, knowing that the years of fearing the demanded exchange for any untried alchemic reaction had lead Al to be – understandably – afraid of trying something new, at least not without researching it thoroughly. There was no time for research here and now.

Somewhere, in the mass of knowledge that he had ingested from the Gate during his varied and numerous dealing with both it and its guardian, he remembered exactly what would happen if the portal between the worlds, the door way through which all energy – even the energy of life – flowed were to be destroyed. The end of everything.

"It can't be fixed now Edward. Only remade." The Guardian whispered, his own form beginning to flicker as the last remaining door shuddered and began to give in to the pull of gravity.

Edward merely nodded and let himself again relax in to the pull of both the knowledge of the Gate and in to the alchemic energy that was as much a part of him as his heart beat was. Through golden eyes he saw the strands of light that connected both himself and to a lesser degree Al to the foundation of the Gate.

The Gate had let him go.

He had died. He had stood beyond the mortal realm. In the place that many cultures referred to as heaven and yet the Gate had let his go. Let him be resurrected.

For this reason, he realised in a startled bolt of clarity. For this very reason.

He glanced briefly back over his shoulder towards his brother's form, smiling.

"If I don't do it Al, who will?" There was no anger in his voice, just calm acceptance of the fate that he realised he had been destined to fulfil since the day that he had first wielded alchemic energy – all those years ago.

Mismatched hands came together and blue light, as bright as the sky on a clear summers morning sparked as two palms landed on the falling door.

A multi throated scream of protest shriek out of the darkness beyond as pure blinding white light engulfed everything.

[Break]

Elsewhere…

In the darkness of the bunker, surrounded by the corpses of loyal fallen soldiers, the collapsing portal to Shambala shuddered.

White light washed out from its core and spilled in to the dark putrid place, trickling in to ever corner of the chamber of death before fading again.

The Gate was gone.

[Break]

"You understand what the cost will be?"

Edward turned and smiled slightly at the creature that loomed at his side. It looked so out of place in the realm of light, its form so black it seemed to put everything else in the back ground, as though it alone was real amongst an unreal back drop.

"I know." Their voices seemed to echo in the stillness, in the realm of the Gate, now freed from the anchor points that Dante had used to trap it and wreak her destruction upon it.

Golden eyes turned back to the towering portal and scanned over the changes with the appreciative eye of a work man that knew what he had created was a master piece.

The Gate glowed, nearly pulsed with the restored power, its doors still towering and adorned with the eerie single eye, its pillars once again sound and strong. But the decoration had changed. Instead of the warped demons and twisted cherubs two angels with crossed swords stood over the arch and in front of each of the two mighty pillars stood a towering armoured form.

It was still awe inspiring but perhaps slightly less terrifying a sight than it had been before and more like the Gate he had seen upon his death.

"You accept it?"

"Yes." Edward breathed, before turning to face the Guardian of the Gate once more. The image had not frightened him in some years after the numbers of times he had witnessed it. He had after all faced the creature at the tender age of eleven and demanded back his brother's soul. He had even extended his arm to it in offering and watched as those clawed hands had taken the limb in equivalent exchange. "You said you had several reasons … for caring I mean."

"Yes. I did. I still do."

"I assume one reason was so that I could fix the Gate and thus prevent your own destruction. What was the other?" Edward asked. The flame like golden eyes of the Guardian of the Gate seemed to smile although how the creature managed the expression Edward would never be able to tell.

"Have you never thought it was odd Edward; that you excel at Alchemy so much? That you have power that no other can truly match?" The guardian asked in return, raising one clawed hand to indicate the Gate as an example to the power that Edward freely wielded. "Or that your brother would be gifted with such phenomenal strength and more recently a nearly indestructible suit of – what do you call it – Soul Armour."

The figure laughed although again Edward had never really understood how a being without a mouth made any sound what so ever.

It paused and the flame like eyes looked away.

"Four centuries ago, a foolish alchemist committed the ultimate taboo – human transmutation – to regain the son he had lost. When he came before me and I demanded the exchange for the homunculi Envy he was – reluctant shall we say – to surrender his flesh." The Guardian paused and turned back again, its deep golden eyes blazing as they met Edward's own. "He thought the stone would be all that was required you see. When I informed him otherwise coward that he was, he instead offered me the lives of all of the children that he would have in the future if I released him unharmed. I accepted."

"Bastard." Edward snarled and one lethal clawed hand gently rested on to Edward's metal shoulder.

"Yes. I assume he thought that any children he had would have their lives claimed by the Gate. Instead…well as I said I accepted the deal…and the children."

Edward closed his eyes and let himself again see the chain of alchemic power that ran from his core to the gate, identical to the one that chained the Guardian to it. The cost of restoring the Gate had been to be tied to it, in life and in death and to protect it for the rest of time.

"You should go now."

Edward nodded softly at the command, his sun like eyes – so unnatural – scanning over the Gate he had re made with practised eyes, memorising the shape, the structure so that he could remember it for the rest of his life.

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye for now Edward Elric, Full Metal Alchemist, Hero of the People and now Guardian of the Gate."

[Break]

Two weeks later…

Edward sighed softly to himself as he settled comfortably on the bench seat and let his gaze wander from the nearly empty train carriage to the window where fields were flying past.

He stretched out his legs fully and smiled as Alphonse huffed as he himself shifted for the hundredth time, his legs curled uncomfortably as he struggled to get into a suitable sleeping position on the too short bench.

Al had forgiven him almost as soon as he had stepped out of the blinding void that was the Gate. His younger brother annoyed could be a truly terrifying thing at times but the mild mannered boy just didn't have the emotional strength to be mad for long periods of time. Something for which Ed was eternally grateful.

Of course secrets had been maintained. His smile dimmed slightly at the half truths he had fed to both Alphonse and later to the General once the streets of Central had been cleared of the last of the Invaders.

They knew that he had fixed the Gate and he knew that Al still worried about the cost, but he did not need to know the oath that Edward had sworn, not yet anyway. Nor did he need to know that their so called father had sold them over to the Gate four centuries before they had even been born.

Let him live with the delusion of Hoinheim being a good man, a man that had sacrificed himself so that his youngest child could be returned to the world. It wouldn't hurt and it gave Al some sort of peace of mind.

Beside, their 'ties' to the Guardian and to the Gate itself had led to some fairly useful talents that Edward knew they would retain for the rest of their lives.

Alphonse had been forgiving but General Mustang had been less than understanding about the breach of his orders.

He had waved the court marshal only because Hawkeye had pointed out how difficult it would be to explain the situation faced to a panel of military judges. Although of course Mustang claimed that the charge was only dropped as Edward had potentially sort of saved the planet which should maybe allow him a little lee way.

Mustang had however taken his revenge by appointing Alphonse not only as a fellow Major (for services rendered before enlisting) but also as not only his permanent mission partner but as his superior officer. Despite the same rank the Full Metal Alchemist had to - by order of the Brigadier General – obey all and every order issued by the Soul Armour Alchemist.

Edward had sulked about that one for an entire day before admitting defeat. He'd obey the orders he 'heard' he figured. After all the fighting he had done, and at such a young age it would hardly be odd that his hearing had been affected after all.

Beyond the change in orders nothing much had changed in Central. Repair work had been started and the under ground City resealed once more, a hidden piece of history unknowingly lurking hundreds of feet below the capital City of Amestris.

The evacuated people had been returned to their homes and the City Militia – which had done a surprisingly good job at scouring the streets for any further enemy soldiers - had been once again disbanded in triumph.

The Drachma forces to the north had been hammered back by the full might of Artmetris' military and had retreated in the face of easily a hundred skilled and deadly State Alchemists. The Assembly had even entered talks to try to stop the ongoing violence that the former Fuhrer had encouraged in a bid to create sacrifices for the forging of the Philosophers stone.

Mustang's personnel had returned – if somewhat reluctantly – to their stacks of paper work and Mustang himself had returned to the revolutionising of the State Alchemist role. Much to the General's annoyance the Elric brother's had been granted an office next to his own by the Assembly in recognition for their hard work. It was no where near the same size but it was a satisfying change from having to work on any free flat space when they returned from missions.

They had also been granted a sizable house from the State under the agreement that Winry move in with them and set up shop. The casualty rate in the North had been devastatingly high during the initial Drachma push and many soldiers had lost limbs in the onslaught.

Personally Edward had been glad to receive the instructions of a new mission earlier that day. The orders had said to report ASAP to Ishbal and assist Major Armstrong with the rebuilding there as the Ishballen people made their way from the safety of their camps back to their home land.

It would also give Al something to concentrate on, to get his mind off the events in the underground City for though he had tried to convince everyone who asked that he was fine, Ed had caught his younger brother on several occasions mournfully studying the black pistol that now lived in a holster on his belt.

He knew that reading between the lines they would be doing more than just reconstruction work. That was why the Engineering core had been dispatched after all. There was still a lingering resentment and hatred toward the Ishballen's in the surrounding regions and also a lot a negative feeling in the neighbouring Liore.

The presence of the Elric brothers, firm supports of the Ishballen refugees would reassure those returning home while it also discouraged any would be idiots from attempting to cause trouble in the area. It would also free Armstrong to go to Liore, a place that Edward knew he was not really welcome to return to after all that had happened there.

He sighed, giving a small head shake when Alphonse glanced over to him questioningly.

He closed his eyes and felt a sudden smile grace his lips. The short delay in notice for the mission had still given him time to organise for a surprise to be sent to Mustang, in revenge for his younger brother appointment as he superior. It was only a shame that he could not be there to see the expression on the General's face.

[Break]

General Mustang glanced up from yet another triplicate form toward the door of his office, wondering – not for the first time – why he had decided that his State Alchemists should bare a new uniform to separate them from the Soldiers, in an effort to make them seem more people friendly and less like 'dogs of the military'. If he had realised the paper work it entailed he wouldn't have bothered or just issued arm bands instead.

Fuery leant his head round the door frame and glanced nervously at the General, checking discretely that now thoroughly dried out spark cloth gloves were safely put away.

"Yes Fuery?"

"Sorry to interrupt Sir but you have a delivery."

The shorter man entered the office cautiously and placed the medium sized box down on the desk before the General before stepping away, almost backing off as Mustang leaned closer to examine the perfectly normal brown box. He poked it careful.

"Fuery, you're acting as though it may explode." Mustang growled and his single black eye took note that the return address on the package was the newly appointed home address and private lab of the Elric Brothers.

"You never know with Ed, Sir."

Mustang had to say that the younger man had a point, although he knew that Edward – reckless though he was – would never send an explosive through the post in the event it hurt an innocent.

With that firmly in mind he cautiously slit open the package with his letter opener and pushed the lid back, poised to duck at a moments notice.

A tan tri cornered leather hat sat upon a bolt of black material in the box and with a growl Mustang picked it up and placed it on his desk before plucking out the bold of black material and shaking it out.

There, instead of a traditional skull and cross bones motif was his signature alchemic 'flame' symbol, the same as that inscribed on his gloves with a skull perched above in white on the black material.

Mustang fought back a grin at the sight and glanced up at Fuery who appeared to be trapped between terror and amusement.

"Tell me Fuery. Are there any other deliveries pending my attention?"

"Um. Y…Yes Sir."

"Is it a parrot by any chance?"

"Yes Sir. Sorry Sir."

The General stood up from his desk and raised a hand to his face to massage the bridge of his nose and conceal his grin from the trembling junior officer.

"Not your fault Fuery. Take it to main office and make sure it has food and water."

"Yes Sir." Fuery replied, saluting even as he backed closer to the door.

"Oh, and Fuery." The General called. "Please also make a sign for the door to the main office reading 'Strictly NO admittance to those under the marked height' and then mark up a height above Edward's own height but obviously below your own."

Fuery swallowed and saluted a second time before fleeing the office, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Inside Brigadier General Mustang, youngest man ever to obtain the high rank and new Commander of all State Alchemists calmly plucked two drawing pins from a tub on his desk and solemnly hung the altered pirate flag in pride of place behind his desk. Then donning the tri cornered hat he saluted the flag before laughing and sitting down to face his next problem.

How exactly to go about teaching the parrot to say "Hi Shorty."

Owari


End file.
